Deadly Plan: How Will I Survive?

On the sleeper train, the young man on the opposite bunk was staring at me.

I felt a wave of fear and hesitated, unsure if I should call the conductor.

He leaned forward and said in a low, sinister tone, "You need to get rid of that scar by your eye, or you'll keep having bad luck."

I was stunned.

He was right; I'd been down on my luck for the past few years.

As I thought about it, I realized my misfortune had begun around the time I got this scar.