[ WP ] You gain the ability to `` quicksave '' in real life , but you can only reload your save by dying .

When I found out that I could reset my life to my 18th birthday by killing myself ( or dying by any other means ), I kinda became a terrible person. I could just go back and fix all the damage I'd done next time, right? 
 
 In no particular order of my saves, I lied, I cheated, I stole. I'd ruined the relationship with the girl I'd loved since junior year of high school ( multiple times ). I'd wrecked my dad's car. And my mom's car. And my brother's car. I had been banned from no less than eight Wal-Marts. I'd joined a suicide cult, and several non-suicide cults. I once became President and sent the world into a nuclear holocaust ( oops ). I'd taken a joyride in the damn Space Shuttle. I'd ruled the continent of Africa for a period of sixteen weeks before forcibly removed from power. My head was also removed on that occasion. I'd lit a flaming bag of dog shit on my high school chemistry teacher's porch. The next life, I'd lit his house on fire. The next life, I'd lit his wife on fire. Perhaps most disgustingly, I once made a commercially successful country music album. I had n't been a good person, but I also had n't found much of a point in that when life had no real consequences. 
 
 This current life though was different. It was n't the longest or most opulent life I'd lived so far. I was really trying to do it right this time, just to see if I could. I married my high school sweetheart, bought a house and had kids. I even had a real job. It was kind of mundane when I thought about it, but there was something so sweet in living for more than just myself for once. Yesterday was my 33rd birthday, and life could n't get any more beautiful. This was the life I'd always wanted, and it had just gone to shit through no fault of my own. 
 
 I'd taken the day off this morning, sleeping in and being awakened by a terse pounding at the door. Bathrobe clad, I'd sleepily greeted the officer without registering what this might mean. Emma had been taking our son Adam to his first day of kindergarden, his baby sister Ryan in the backseat. The eighteen wheeler that hit her Jetta had been properly maintained, the brake line's failure an anomaly. That did n't make it any better. 
 
 For a long few hours, I knew what it was like to truly lose everything you loved, with no way to get it back. I knew grief and I knew pain. I cried and screamed and bargained and blamed gods I did n't believe in. I briefly forgot that I could just off myself and start over. Once I remembered, I regained my composure. While there was no guarantee I could ever live this exact life again, I could surely get pretty close. I was blessed with an eternal reset button. 
 
 I went upstairs, rummaged through my closet for my 38. caliber reset button. I found it, cold and lifeless, thus far unused in this life. It was n't any big thing, I'd done this before. I brought it to my head and instantly fired, my confidence in my ability to gain it all back at an all time high. 
 
 **save file corrupted**
