Sixth Blog: X-Ray (Mind Reading) Glasses

Hank was a very simple little boy. He had simple little dreams and a simple little life. Hank was 13 years old when he encountered a very mysterious power. This is a story of how a weird and not-so-normal young kid trying to be normal.

The story began one day after Hank had finished his first Common Test of his secondary school. His friends all decided to eat lunch together after school at a near by mall. There were a total of five people there. Hank were close to his four friends ever since day one of school. However, within his circle of friends, he's the one that alway get to be joked at. Kind as he is, he obliged to all those jokes they had of him.

So there they were, having lunch at a BBQ restaurant, relieving their stress from the previous examination, laughing away. They were all laughing so hard that at one moment, Hank had tears in his eyes. He took off his spectacles, put them on the table and wiped the tears off. Hank's friends had encountered a chance to prank him, so one of them hid his specs and acted normal, as if nothing had happened. Realizing that his specs went missing, he panicked. He searched the table, under the table, in his bag and in his pockets but it was no where to be found. The rest were trying to hold their laughter.

Hank, panicked, stood up from his chair and then bent down to check below the table once again. He found a pair of spectacles just like his under his chair. He took it, wore it and said, "Nice job guys! Now my spec are dirty!".

Surprised, the guys just kept quiet, knowing that Hank took the wrong specs. Everyone was quiet about this and didn't tell Hank about it.

However, Hank had realised something. He knew the spectacles he wore definitely was his as the degree was perfect. But somehow, he could hear the voices of people, their thoughts, even when they're not moving their mouths. Hank had realised that he could hear people's thoughts every time he wore his specs.

With his new found 'power', he tried it on his family first. He found out that his brother had been thinking of his crush all day long, his mother had been thinking of doing house work even during her sleep and his father was thinking of work and watching TV all day long.

Hank wanted more. He wanted to know what people think of him. He tried it on his friends, asking them questions about him. But what he found out wasn't quite what he expected. They were not friendly to him, behind his back and even in front of him.

With this knowledge, he uses them to his advantage. Changing himself to fit in to other's view of him. He talked differently and acted normal from that day onwards. However, his friends were very suspicious of his new behaviour. They felt that Hank wasn't the same and they didn't find a liking to this 'new' Hank.

Hank was having headaches from hearing thoughts all day. He had stopped and took off his specs once in a while but had no reason to stop using it. However, Hank felt that he needed to fit in with his friends.

Hank was slowly wearing out. He felt tired of it and of course he was scared that people will start to be suspicious of this. Hank was feeling down. He did everything he could to please everyone but he wasn't pleased with himself. One day, his friends all confronted him and talked about his behaviour. They told him that he was becoming more of a jerk and not a friends. Hank left his friends without a reply. Mad, he went off by himself.

That night, Hank broke his spectacles and threw it away. He couldn't take it. He's rather be lied to then be told the worst truth. He felt that the worst enemy was he himself and that by trying to fit in, he ended up destroying himself. He gives up his 'power' because he wanted something that he already had in the first place. Friends.

"What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person"

Paper Towns by John Green

I have chosen the main character, the protagonist of the story, Quentin Jacobsen for my character analysis. Quentin Jacobsen, also known as ‘Q’, is a seventeen year old boy who lives next door to Margo Roth Spiegelman, whom he believes is the love of his live. Basically the whole story began when Margo invited Quentin out on an adventure at night, doing stuff so morbid, so unimaginable and even down right gruesome, gruesome to Quentin at least.

Quentin duly obliged. After a night out with Margo, she disappears the next day. Leaving Quentin clues to her whereabouts, and all of this, weeks before their high school graduation. Thus, Quentin was left searching for Margo, and finding clues that were left specifically for him.

Quentin is a very nerdy and quiet young boy with the same problems faced by any young nerdy kids. His parents are both therapist, hence he didn’t seem to care about his problems at all, not to even share it. He has always admired Margo, ever since he was young. However, both of them seem to have different views and personality. When both of them were 9, they found a dead body at a near by park. While Margo questions the situation, taking a step forward, Quentin went to tell the grown ups, taking a step backward (pg 5). Quentin wasn’t the heroic kind of guy. He was the total opposite of that.

The real story began when Quentin started his search for Margo. Margo, being in the whole book for around 2-3 chapters, left little clues for Quentin. Quentin felt that she wanted him to know of this. Quentin showed the amount of admiration he had for Margo by not giving up on his search. An example would be a clue Margo had left him. A poem entitled, ‘Song of Myself’ taken from a book called, “Leaves of Grass” written by Walt Whitman. Quentin had read this poem over and over again, countless times, trying to catch anything that Margo would have wanted him to know.

Quentin even pulled his two best friends along with him on the search, Ben and Radar. One clue Margo had left Quentin was that she would be staying in a ‘Paper Town’. A so-called ‘town’ that only exists on the maps. Quentin searched and went to every pseudo vision, or ‘paper town’ there is in America. He would ‘borrow’ his parents’ minivan for his journey.

Quentin would sometimes stop his search to save her and start living a normal life, for the sake of his friends, but only for a little while. This on and off search kept on going until he made a breakthrough. Some clues, not even clues, it’s the traces that Margo left behind, for example the pins she would place to hang a map on the wall would show the locations she was heading or had past. These small little traces Quentin had believed to be clues for him to find her.

However, during this ‘journey’ to find her, and reading ‘Song of Myself’ over and over again, Quentin had realized that Margo wasn’t the girl he thought he’d knew. He had only admired the idea of her. He not only realized this but he slowly began to learn about himself too.

“…you listen to people so that you can imagine them, and you hear all the terrible and wonderful things people do to themselves and to one another, but in the end the listening exposes you even more than it exposes the people you’re trying to listen to,” (pg 216).

In this poem, Quentin also learns that one cannot become another. Or a better way to phrase it, he could not have known who or what Margo is. He could not have a slightest clue to where or who she is because he could not become her. Because he is not her.

Quentin then went on a 22 hour-long journey, skipping his graduation and bringing along his friends including Lacey, who (was) a good friend of Margo. He had found the location she would be in and had hoped she’ll actually be there. But when he got there and found her, things weren’t exactly how he wanted them to turn out. It turns out Margo didn’t want to be found, even though she left clues and only little clues. It was Quentin’s love for Margo than made the search possible and successful.

“There is that in me… I don’t know what it is… but I know it is in me…”- A line taken from ‘Song of Myself’, it shows how human we are.

This I believe is a mistake or something Quentin has taken granted for. He has put not only Margo but also everyone he knows on a pedestal.

“What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person,” (pg 282).

Quentin always had an idea of a person, thinking of them being more human than human. And when that person is Margo, he’ll even worship her. Quentin sees that seeing someone as more than a person is actually a terrible thing.

In the end, Margo shared Quentin her true self, that she too was admiring Quentin and that she had to leave home to live her life. They both shared their love, something Quentin and Margo had dreamt of since young but Quentin can’t be with her, and she couldn’t possibly go back home.

“I hope this is the hero’s errand, because not following her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” (pg 304)

And Quentin has to let it go. Quentin, who had thought of Margo every single day, every single night looking at her window would have to let her go. I honestly think that this is the hardest part for anyone in general.

Quentin had shown his maturity throughout this whole story. I believed this book shows how human we are and that we should stay that way. Imperfect. Quentin showed that quality. Quentin had the readers (me), wishing that Margo was a goddess, a girl whom he puts up so high, a girl he respects so much but in finding her and her true self, Quentin found himself, and I found myself. I feel that there is a connection between Quentin and me. The way Quentin talks about the people and his friends in almost every single sentence. Judging them.

The whole story doesn’t really show what happens after that, nor does it show whether or not Quentin and Margo get to be together. What I find interesting about this book is that, the character did not gain anything much like other literature books. He learnt about himself, he did gain knowledge and Margo’s love in the end but it was more of a learning experience then an actual ending. But I guess to Quentin, Margo’s love is worth more than the paper towns he searched. They’re even worth more then the poems in ‘Song of Myself’.

Quentin is a character that is so simple at first sight but when he is put in these situations, he’s more than just a character. He is more that just the protagonist. He is the main character, he is the hero, he is the antagonist, he is reader, he is the author and last of all he is simply Quentin.

So basically, Quentin is a quiet teenage boy who keeps most things to himself, especially his thoughts of others. Since his parents are both therapist, he doesn’t quite have a normal teenage life as he had to survive many countless remarks and observations of his life. Thus, he frequently questions everything and even questions his own self. He doesn’t share much and also doesn’t express his feelings well. He is a boy with low self-esteem and doesn’t think he could do much in his life. He loves Margo and will do absolutely anything for her and this shows how true and romantic he can be.

However his friends see him as a kind and humble guy. They think of him as a respectful and responsible person who is very shy but also funny in certain ways. Especially to Margo, Quentin is a hero at heart. He shows himself to those important to him and lets himself out to those whom meant more to him, that being Margo. He is a good friend to them and they would do anything to help him, especially in finding Margo for him.

Weirdly, I feel like I am Quentin, not in the story but just him himself. His character is relatable and the way the author created this character is so realistic. Realistic in such a way that the character speaks to himself the same way I would. So before I start to argue with myself, like what Quentin would normally do, I’ll end this essay with a quote from the book, not one of my favourites but it fits in with the whole story and Quentin’s love for Margo.

“The town was paper, but the memories were not.”

Fifth Blog: "Johnny and the Three Bars"

The city was filled with shining bright lights and many wild attractions. There were a number of strip clubs within 2 kilometer radius, and there were countless of bars there too. But Johnny was already sick of it. He was in the back alley, sitting down and leaning against the wall. He was so drunk that he couldn't even straightened his legs to see his feet. Looking back at the memories, Johnny had a smirk on his face, a self-satisfied smirk.

Johnny left home that late afternoon to meet his friends in the city. Knowing that tomorrow was a Sunday, he planned on getting back as late as possible. He meet Will and Tim at the train stations. The three of them knew each other from work and had these nights out together to relief their stress, and they really needed to relieve the stress they had after months on working on a project.

So Johnny and the gang were set and walked to the first bar from the train station. The first bar they went to was called the 'Eski Bar'. Having a their first drink of the night, the three friends toasted to a night of fun and adventure.

However, they only had a few drinks there and even though they were craving for just a drink and a night of relaxation, the extreme sweetness of the drinks there were not fit for their liking. So Johnny put down his second glass of beer of the night, with only three quarter of the glass empty.

All three of them headed towards the dance floor. This time again, the mood of the bar wasn't to their liking. Only a few people were on the dance floor, so few that they could even count. 15 people there, standing, some dancing and others walking by to get to the bar. Unsatisfied with this, Johnny and the guys exited the bar and went on to find another near by.

So they went on and entered a bar a few shop houses away. The bar was called, "The Green Light". However the queue to get in to the bar was quite long. They had to wait approximately 15 minutes to get in. So after waiting, the guys entered and ordered drinks and sat at the balcony. The gang then toasted to a night of fun and relaxation.

After a few drinks and laughs, the bar was getting a bit too crowded. The drinks too were a bit too sour. Johnny just kept this to himself as he tried to focus on enjoying the night. Ten minutes later, the bar was packed. So packed that when someone wants to get drinks, they have to wait a while, and if they wanted to go to the washroom, they had to wait even longer.

The three of them looked at their watches, and then each other. Johnny nodded and pointed to the door with his eyes. They knew what he was trying to say and headed towards the exit. Sure enough, it was hard passing through a room full of people.

Finally they were out of the bar. Johnny was starting to get pissed off as they only wanted to have a night of fun but got held up due to the bad drinks and small and big crowds. Not giving up, the three of them went on to the nearest bar which was actually quite a distance between the second one.

The third bar they went to was called 'Start the Machine'. They had doubts about the bar as the experience they had with the previous one and the one before that did not go well. However, optimistic about it, Johnny and his friends went in. At first sight, the bar was pretty decent. It was not empty like the first one and definitely not crowded like the second. And the drinks too was a surprise. It wasn't too sweet like the first bar nor was it too sour like the second.

So finally Johnny and his friends were enjoying the night. The had laughs here and there. Talked about works and family. It wasn't until late at night when they were drunk. Johnny and Tim were too drunk to even order anymore drinks. Somehow, Johnny and Tim were so drunk that they started a fight with a group of men.

They and thrown a few punches here and there and had a huge argument. In the end of it all, the three of them got kicked out of the bar and was not allowed back in. Johnny and his friends were left out in the back alley, with a bottle of beer in his hands. However they were quite satisfied as they had a fun night. Johnny leaned his back against the wall and sat down. He had his last sip and was knocked out.

Fourth Blog: After Midnight

1) Open you eyes and observe something that looks interesting or catches your eyes as you travel around.

2) Snap a photo of the thing if you can. If can't, just make a mental picture of it.

3) Think deeply about who or what that thing/person is. Do you think there is a story behind the person/object.

4) Write/blog the story

This is the story of an average Singaporean office worker…

The time was 5:20am. Jacob was lying in his bed, sleeping peacefully, dreaming about his 'Dream Girl', living in his 'Dream House', and owning his 'Dream Car'. 10 minutes later, he realized that it was all a dream but his dreams transformed into reality. Well except there’s no 'Dream Girl', no 'Dream House' and no 'Dream Car', it was more like a nightmare.

Jacob just got a new job as an inventory associate at a National Geographic store. He had been working at a few bookstores before but only as a customer service associate, not an inventory staff. In other words he was pretty nervous.

It was his first day that day so he got up really early. He was supposed be at work at 8am but he was wide-awake at 5:30am. After going through his daily routine of breakfast and a glass of warm milk, he went in to the shower. Wanting to make a great impression, and to look smart of course, he shaved his little mustache and his little beard, leaving some to make it uniform.

Accidentally he shaved it too deep and he cut his upper lip. Blood gushed out as he quickly grabbed for a towel, which was hanging by the door in the shower. Putting pressure on his lips, he tried to wet it with water but realized that it was a bad idea. Screaming in pain, he waited till his lips felt numb. After cleaning up and putting a plaster on the cut, he quickly got dressed.

The time was 6:15am. He’s supposed to be out of the house by 6:30am so Jacob rushed to get ready. He opened his wardrobe to grab his neat and formal-looking shirt, which he had already ironed it late last night. After putting on his pants, he put both his arms in his shirts. Buttoning from top to bottom, he was shocked to find out that the last three buttons were missing. He cursed in anger. He knew in his head that things like this could happen to him. And even worst at a time like this.

He hastily went to check for any other neat looking outfit in the wardrobe and pulled out one. It was plaid and black. He didn’t really found a liking to the shirt but it was all that he had with a collar and long sleeve. So he finally was ready, wearing long black pants with a plaid shirt, not what he’d imagined wearing on his first day of work but it will do.

Jacob got out of the house. With the best look he could ever possibly imagine putting on, hair side parted, plaster on lip, his bag pack proportion on his shoulders and his socks, both pulled up to the same length. He waited at the near by bus stop for the bus to come. Living close to the main road was a convenience to him as there were a number of buses that go to the nearest MRT station.

So he finally boarded a bus and got to Tampines MRT Station at exactly 7:10am. He had precisely 50 minutes to get to Harbourfront MRT station, where the National Geographic store is located.

Staying positive about this when actual fact, Jacob was going to be late for his first day at work. He’s going to be late for a high paying job as an inventory associate at a popular company brand. So the train ride went smoothly. The train was quite packed, especially at that time as many people were heading to the town area for work.

It wasn’t until at Bugis MRT station when the train had stopped moving. The train had halted from a fast speed and got everyone in the train puzzled. At least a hundred people were in that train and at least a hundred of them were furious. One of them was Jacob of course. But shortly after the train started moving. To him it felt like minutes but the train only stopped for roughly 30 seconds.

Switching train lines, Jacob got on a different line. He ran quickly to get in to the other train. Soon the train reached Harbourfront MRT station. Jacob got out as soon as the train doors had opened. With sweat dripping down to his shirt, he ran as fast as he could.

He ran past the entrance, passing a number of stores before he reached the escalator. His phone rang but it took him quite a while to hear it and feel the vibration. He picked up the phone as he ran, only a few meters to the store. He placed his phone on his ear.

“Hey Jacob! It’s Elisa, the Head of Inventory for National Geographic. I’m really sorry to be informing you at the last minute but we had to swap your shift for today. I’ll contact you about your shift later in the day. Thanks anyways!”

Elisa put the phone down. Less than 4 steps to the store, Jacob stopped. Having a confused face, he walked slowly to the store, catching his breath. He stood in front of the store. Stunned and tired.

“Fuck”

Third Blog: Too old to die young

It felt strange. The walkway to schools, the houses and homes before it, the surroundings and the people all around. The air was motionless but when I opened my mouth, I felt a chill, like the chill when my lips and unguarded tongue makes contact with ice cold water.

The town was a very peaceful place, if you mind the riots. But what people don't see is the love that's found in west London.

__________________________________________________

I was hiding behind an office table, my hands were covering my ears, every inch of it covered. I turned my head around to see a few of my fellow workers doing the same thing. No one was hurt or injured but we were scared that it might get worst. The bombings were quite frequent, they were around three to five minutes apart and I was scared as hell. The first few bombings got us stuck in the office building as the exits were all blocked by the rubbles.

We were all in the sixth floor. Windows were shattered and glasses and other office equipments were on the floor. A fellow worker of mine lead us to the pantry, which was further into the floor space. There was food there, drinks for our thirst but no escape. We all waited there, checking if everyone was safe and if anyone was missing or injured, fortunately no one was dead.

We all couldn't take it. The situation was bad enough but enduring it was torture. All of us didn't know why help wasn't on the way. Half and hour, having rubbles in our sight and heat boiling in our faces was painful enough. We had to crawl to get from one place to another.

Double checking every exit there is, we found one. However the exit door was jammed but it had a small opening. The rubble on the other side was probably blocking our sweet escape. The opening was only 2 inches, I could only fit half of my palm in.

We pushed as hard as we could, the guys using their strength, even some of the ladies too. The door budged bit by bit. The opening now was about 12 inches, and it could only fit a few people inside, mostly the ladies. We got them out, and they cleared the rubbles, picking up the pieces of bricks out of the way, and slowly got us out.

We had to rush down the stairs, which was not as badly ruined as the office. Heading down, we rescued some office workers from the floors below. But another problem occured. The second floor stairs turned to rubble. There was no way out, or down. One of the guys, fit as he was, climbed down. It was difficult even for a fit guy like him but got down. He went out to get help.

At this point we realised that the bombings had stop. We were at the third floor, praying for a miracle. There were no other exits there and there were no windows either. A few minutes later, help came. A firefighter was shouting from the first floor calling us and we went up to the fourth where there was a window. A firetruck had an extended ladder out to the fourth floor, and slowly rescued us.

At the end of it all I wasn't injured but I was pretty traumatised about the whole thing. I didn't think we could all make it, especially when the door didn't budged and when the stairs didn't lead anywhere. But thank God I survived, thank God I was safe.

Second Blog: Young, Dumb and Full of C*m

"I don't wanna waste my time, becoming another casualty of society. I don't wanna fall in line, becoming another victim of conformity" - Fat Lip

Fat Lip by a band called Sum 41 was a song that I could easily say has changed my life. Everyone has a moment or a series of events that changed their life. Well mine was sort of this. If it wasn't for this band, and if it wasn't for this song specifically, I would have been a totally different person.

I was nine when I first heard this song. My older brother bought a CD called 'All Killer No Filler', and somehow, I couldn't stop listening to the record. I couldn't put it down. I couldn't stop listening to it. It was something completely different and new to what I've heard so far. And that kind of feeling was weird but good I guess. I mean the record had a strong and angry vibe to it that suits me. I didn't understand the lyrics at that age but I just sang it, I sang it out loud. It sounds gibberish but I sang my heart out. It felt right. It just felt right.

Surprisingly, what I've found out over the years was that this kind of music was already in my blood. It has always been. The whole punk rock idea was in me. I remember when I was 8 years old, I loved to play a game called 'Tony Hawk Pro Skater' on our family's Playstation. I could sing along to the whole soundtrack, not to the actual lyrics but to the melodies. I was 8! Humming to songs from bands like The Vandals, Dead Kennedys, The Ramones and Bad Religion. I don't think anyone did that, or at least not many.

It's just that the song 'Fat Lip' sort of got me into the whole rebellious stage. It's the reason I skipped school and started lying and all that crap that I posted in the first blog. It hit me, the feeling of being a part of something exclusive. The feeling that no one else knows this band or this song but me, or just basically saying, being selfish. And I liked that feeling. No one knew the songs that I loved to sing. No one else knows but me.

After many years, I found the lyrics and learnt the meaning of the song. What I've found out was pretty cool. The song totally describes how I felt and how I lived my life, especially when I was around 8-9 years old.

"As a kid, was a skid, and no one knew my name"; "Well I'm a no good nick lower middle class brat, back packed and I don't give a shit about nothing"; "I'm sick of always hearing 'Act your age' ".

I was never the same kid again…

~~~

I’ve had many events that happened to me when I was young. This song reminds me of an incident I encountered when I was 9 years old. I could remember it clearly in my head right now…

Class has ended. It was 12 o’clock. I think it was a Wednesday, or a Thursday. I couldn’t remember what day it was but I knew it was in the middle of the week. I was the last person to leave class. Having a very heavy bag pack, I walked slowly down the hall and down the stairs.

First of all, I wasn’t the most popular kid in school. I was a loner I guess. I had friends but I had no close friends, no best friends. I was made fun of almost everyday. People all around was staring at me cause I was different. I was overweight, the most overweight kid in school and no one, well almost no one wanted to talk to me.

So there I was, walking down the hall when three students confronted me. The bullies. I called them ‘The Three Dumb Mice’, well not in front of them. They’ve made fun of me every single day of school.

But on that day, it was different. I felt different. I felt like saying enough is enough.

The first guy had called me from a far. Knowing I couldn’t turn back as it was a dead end, I walked towards them. Slowly that is. With my hands in my pocket, head down, I walked. Well it was more like dragging my feet. I dragged my feet slowly towards those bullies.

The two guys then went to pull my bag down. I was ‘unarmed’, feeling like I was naked with my back exposed. The first guy then came up to me, centimeters from my face, and grabbed me by my collar with one hand and the other squeezing my cheeks.

“Hey Fat Ass! Why you so fat? Why you fat?”

I was correcting his grammar in my head. I mean even I could think of a better way to make fun of myself.

But I was accustomed to this that I didn’t even bother to call for help. I’ve always waited it out and endure the pain and humiliation. But that day, on that day I snapped.

Pushing him back, I was now in control of my physical self. He stumbled and took a few steps back, regaining his balance. The other two guys were beside him, astonished.

In my head I was like,

“Fuck this. Fuck them. I’ve had enough.”

And so I said to them, shouting to be exact,

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you dumb ass!”

I didn’t look at them when I shouted. I had my eyes closed and my hands by my side ready to be hit once more. After yelling, I slowly opened my eyes.

And they were stoned.

I pushed him again but this time he stood still. He was ready for that blow. Knowing I made a mistake, I took a quick step back but he pushed me down to the floor and stomped me like as if I was on fire. I felt the burn. I felt the worst that day, that moment.

I blacked out and regain consciousness in the sick bay. I’ve just got the beating from hell. But I liked it. It really felt weird but I knew deep inside that it was different. That one moment where I stood up for myself, I felt like I was king.

~~~

That was one of the many incidents that I could recall every time I listened to the song.

I just felt like writing...

I have a knife in my hand, I don't know what to do with it.

I HAVE A KNIFE IN MY HAND. I don't know what to do with it.

~It feels weird. Somehow, thinking of the word 'weird' itself is weird. Like the letters, when I look at them long enough, it doesn't seem to like make sense. Why isn't mom calling me for dinner? I heard her calling out my brother, but why not me? I was singing along to 'Who wrote Holden Caulfield?', "There's a boy who fogs his world and now he's getting lazy. There's no motivation and frustration's makes him crazy"~

I've got a knife in my hand but I don't know what to do with it.

~Suddenly my memory was awaken. I could see my teenage self talking to my lover. He's standing there with his half untucked shirt, messy hair and his oh so charming face. Knowing that he'll never be with us again feels like 'The end of the world", was an understatement of reality. It was a long time ago but it feels like it lasted a lifetime. I wish I could change our family. Wishing my sons would have what I couldn't achieve~

I have a knife in my hand but I don't think I know what to do with it.

~It's been a while but I feels like I should have said "I Love You". She's the best I've ever had but I'm too scared or too dumb to admit it. All I want is for her to understand that when I took her hand, it's because I wanted to~

There's a knife in my hand. I think I wanna kill.

So there I was, standing somewhere in the kitchen, hands leaning on the sink. My mind felt like it just entered my body. I had bloods stains on my shirt, so gruesome I didn't even have time to name the colour. It's so weird. I had a knife in my hand, but why? What happened? I saw memories of my mom's and my two brothers. Their most deepest thoughts were in my head. Could I read them? Could I see them? Why were they in my mind? I dropped the knife. Hearing the sound it made when it landed on the floor. Then I felt like me again. I turned and saw bodies on the floor. I couldn't identify them the moment I saw them but slowly I realised that it was my family. What did I just do? I looked at my blood stained hands. Suddenly I realised...

I have a knife in my hand but I don't what to do with it.