[ WP ] Within a year of birth every parent receives a small gift or note from their 18yo child via time travel . You do n't .

No letter only meant one thing. 
 
 The first year was hard, the second easier. We spent more time than I could tell you planning, plotting, trying to figure out how to stay one step ahead of the inevitable. 
 
 We looked at cabins in the wilderness away from crime. We pored over brochures for the most comprehensive health insurance money could buy. We tried to decide what martial arts to learn, and which to teach our child. 
 
 We contemplated changing careers. 
 
 Then one day we realized that there were just too many ways for a person to die, and we could the next ten years preparing, and still lose. 
 
 We decided, for better or for worse, not to raise a child in fear. For all we knew, there could be another explanation. We told no one, for all our sake. Nobody should live the that specter hanging over them. 
 
 It never fully left us. We did n't use babysitters, we did n't drink. We held a weapons permit, but never went hunting... and while we told ourselves we had other reasons, it's no coincidence we lived so close to the hospital. 
 
 But we tried. We tried so desperately to live normally, promising ourselves that we deal with it when it happened, not before. Even so, every trip to the ER for a standard childhood malady was a nightmare. Being late home from school was terrifying. I ca n't begin to count how many times the words `` Please do n't let this be it'' were whispered silently over something that would otherwise be normal. 
 
 We got better as the years went on, and worse as the 18th neared. At 16, car shopping. We wanted something safe and reliable... but a 16 year old has other priorities. We'd raised a good kid. There was no pushing, not even a request, but you could see something light up when we walked past it. 
 
 It was more than we could afford, and certainly more than any sane parent should buy a teenager. Hell, it was more than any sane person ought to spend on four wheels and an engine. It was insanity. But in the back of our minds, something cruel whispered `` Only two more years''. 
 
 Fuck it. 
 
 We knew that car would be wrecked as soon as we signed the papers. What else could it be at that age? Small comfort though it was, at least it would n't happen in a used shitbox. 
 
 One year later, the wreck. Go figure, you spend a years pay on a car, and you can get decent safety ratings. Nothing left of the car, but no fatalities, no injuries. We replaced the car with the newest model. 
 
 A year later, our nightmare almost came true. A light on late at night. Leaving for school a little early. Telling us about an errand before school. I almost did n't see it. 
 
 I ran out the door screaming, crying, waving my arms like a madman. I realized I'd forgotten my keys. I could n't chase in my own car. 
 
 `` Please do n't let this be it.'' 
 
 But the car came back. 
 
 `` Do n't send it''
