I am not particularly superstitious. But as a person who perceives the world synesthetically, I still find certain numbers to be eerily omenous. I am not a descendant of the Knights Templar, but I do know why Friday the Thirteenth makes them nervous. At dawn on Friday, October 13, 1307, the Templar Order was betrayed and arrested by King Philip of France because he sought to seize their vast treasury, which he did not fully gain control of. But he did use a lot of Templar Knights as firewood, burning them at the stake for supposedly worshipping Baphomet, a horned devil of Islamic origin.
The number thirteen appears black to me with an aura of evil around it. As a child, and after I was sexually assaulted, my terrible secret, I believed I would die on Friday the 13th. I worried intensely as each new Friday the 13th approached. But when it passed and left me still alive, I tended to think that any such date that did not end me was, in the long run, a lucky day. Some years, I had three whole lucky days.
This day, however, brings with it worries about blood pressure spikes and dives, possible heart attacks, or heart failures, and possible strokes. I may actually die this time. I spent a week in the hospital in May and had a pacemaker surgically attached to my heart. I still await the stress test that will reveal if there are any blockages in heart valves or clogged arteries. There is also a concerning spot on my liver that has yet to be tested, discovered anew by an X-ray taken during one of my three ER visits.
Do you think I can hold my breath for an entire day? Or will that only make matters worse?
Catch a Falling Star 
I hope you will overcome this day!
I think I did just that. Thank you.