I stood outside the large dining room next to a lime green wall, black heels touching a checkerboard tile floor. Both bathrooms behind me as an exit strategy to hide from everyone.

I feel so nervous I might want to vomit. It is not even the large feast I am about to attend surrounded by my many classmates and their families. It is about tomorrow, the future, where I will find out exactly what my fate is...

The lump in my stomach developed from my extreme anxiety, so much so that that I am forced into a bathroom stall. My mind flitters to the last time I was standing in front of The Temple of Destiny.

I have always had liked to observe that place with both existential wonder and dread, it is the building where my parents went into to have my future foretold. When I was younger and still a child, I used to wonder what occured in The Temple of Destiny until my Mother explained it to me. The Temple of Destiny is where babies' futures are foretold to their parents.

But as I grew older, I started to realize that not every destiny is equal. I had learned to read the faces of the parents whom left The Temple of Destiny and started to gather statistics.

Parents who left smiling with happy smiling babies who were joyful and often times playful could were to expect their child's destiny to be greater than theirs. This occurs anywhere from one in ten babies to one in five babies depending on the day.

Parents who enter the temple and leave the temple acting the same with a mild-mannered baby can expect no fate changes for their child. This happens most commonly anywhere from four out of ten babies to five out of ten babies depending on the day.

Parents who leave the temple frowning with an ornery baby can expect their child to have a lesser destiny that themselves. This occurs in every fifteen out of a hundred babies to every forty five out of a hundred babies depending on the day.

If the parents leave looking discontent and emotionally distraught with a crying baby, they are unlikely to ever see their baby's destiny. It will likely be struck die due to illness in a few days. This occurs solidly across the board at five out of a hundred babies. It is the rarest incident rate according to my books.

I remember the last triplet I saw that day being one of the unfortunate 5% rare cases of impending infant death. I felt bad for the parents but even worse for the baby who would not live to see its hay-day.

I always, for some reason though, when watching these scenes unfold felt increasing impending doom about my own destiny. I knew I likely was not going to die, but could not help but wonder aimlessly at the enigma of my unclear destiny in the future.

I make one more lurching gasp to expel what was left in my stomach. The memory of my last full day observing the Temple remained in my mind making me want to wretch again. But there is nothing left in my stomach.

I raise myself up from my abdomen, flush the toilet and begin to prep myself for the feast at the sink.

I look at myself in the mirror after sipping some water from the sink and spitting it out. My dirty blonde hair is messy. I push my long hair backing touching my scalp with some water to wet it down. I stare at my face red with anxiety and irritated bloodshot red eyes. It is obvious I am a mess right now. But I wash my hands anyway and turn towards the lime green wall with the white crown molded swinging door. I walk out despite all of my fears and questions into the luxurious arched hallways inside the venue.

"I knew you were in there, Reina," my best female friend makes herself known as she leans on the wall besides the door.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Hale."

She quickly reaches into the side pocket of her jacket and pulls out a box of breath mints. She hands me one, "You need this, Rei."

"Thanks," I stare down at the white mint before popping it into my mouth.

"By the way, dinner is starting any minute now," she announces and then walks off as smoothly as ever. Boy charmer.