I fingered through the pages of the magazine with a heavy touch, searching desperately for the answer to a life long question. I fumbled through the thin words and grazed over the bright, big pictures of women with obvious breast enhancements and men with glaring egos. Who am I? I asked this with the flip of each page, the sight of each overpaid individual my eyes were graced with the presence of. The answer wouldn't come to me easily, I knew this, it probably wouldn't even come to me in this particular magazine (the 23rd of the day); but I had to keep looking. My eyes would not allow me to wander from the pages. It wasn't until page 104 that I found my answer. The blank page stared back at me like a mirror.
I was walking through the deserted halls of the shopping mall when I heard the noise. It rang through my ears, going in one like a bullet, and filtering out the other, leaving an oozing trail of blood behind. My body quivered as I backed against the nearest wall, searching for any form of foundation to protect me, keep me still and solid in my shock. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable. The second noise came more smoothly, with my anticipation of it. I let my back scrape down the wall as i sunk to the ground and buried my head in my arms. The second sound left an echo in my left ear that I could not shake, though I tried with vicious might. Green dots began to form in my eyes, then yellow, then pink. They danced in a sick waltz that left me wondering what life would be like once the terror was over. I opened my eyes and there it was. There was no turning back.