Now then boys and girls. I'm sorry for my moment of silence. Being drugged isn't exactly all that it's cracked up to be. Though I am glad that this conversation is happening in my head.

Really bad case of cotton mouth you see. Now that I feel a bit of lucidity shall I tell you why I'm here.

This is a typical case of 'a friend in need,is the friend who bleeds'. I am what you would call an ... unfortunate soul.

That is to say I have no fortune to speak of. I ran away from home early on in my life. Nothing grand. Just packed my stuff and left. Caught a taxi and drove to the nearest train station. Got myself a ticket and map of the city that I would call home for the next decade.

I was 15 at the time if you were curious. That makes 27 years old. If you do the math you notice that I've been away from that city for 2 years. If you follow the news then you'd know why.

"Young man stabs an elderly teacher and escapes police detention.Suspect is believed to armed and dangerous. Do not approach if seen. Contact the local authorities immediately." That's the story they told anyway.

No one cared about my story. It was pretty good too. Full of betrayal and innocence lost. A reaaal tear-jerker.

What? You interested? Of course you are! Why else would you be here? You don't even know how I look, let alone the sound of my voice. I bet you are trying to imagine my 'person' as we speak. How about I tell you how I was first before the grand reveal?

Ok. I was a kid of average build at the age of ten. About 5 feet tall. I inherited my dads thick raven black hair and my mom's dark brown eyes.I inherited my grandfather's stubborn nature and my grandmother's cunning and wit.

It's a shame that I inherited little else.

I then grew at a steady rate of an inch or two a year with no obvious growth spurt. I did however get tougher. While I wasn't technically an orphan that was the first 'persona' I adopted.

I was the quiet and helpful Isaac Turner. A ten year orphan who was found squatting at an old building set for demolition. The orphanage that took me in was a good one. Plenty of room and enough food to keep a growing boy well looked after. I had friends there too. How odd that I can't remember their faces anymore.

Though if I think about it then it's not too strange. These are Isaac's memories after all, not mine.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Oh how I envied Isaac. He was the golden child. They put him through school where he excelled. Whether in the field of academia or sports he was in the top 1 percent.

So unlike young Quentin Marcus the runaway. The coward. The deserter.

That is why I killed him. And like a perfect crime I was never caught. After all ... how could they prove it without any body to show?

So as I finished my last term I was already set to run away again. That's what I should have done.

But that's when I met her. On my way to my dorm room. Just standing there. She looked straight at me. Peering at me with her discerning eyes. She wasn't beautiful but she was pretty. She looked down for a moment before approaching me. I made my way forward at a casual pace. When we were half a meter from each other we stopped. She looked at my face again and said ... "Isaac. Right?" I nodded.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a letter. Handed it over to me,smiled and left.

I went up to my room and closed the door. Placing my own bag down I opened the envelope and started to read the contents within.

It was a long and well written piece but I'll sum it for you guys.

'We know who you are.' I was still for what seemed like 10 minutes. Slowly I placed the letter down. I took a couple of breaths. Ran my hands up and down my face as if trying to erase all discernible facial features. I can gotten a few scars over the years. Fights and arguments with people at school who didn't like being shown up the orphan nerd.

A small cut on my cheek that ran along my left eye. The scarring made it look like a tattoo. I say 'cut' but since I don't know the appropriate term for 'wound inflicted by a glass shard', I'll stick with cut for now.

I ran up to my window but didn't stand in-front of it. Peering through my blinds I tried to spot the unknown. The hard thing about spotting things that seem suspicious when you're paranoid if that everything seems suspicious.

So I just did the sane thing and packed my bags and left the city I called home for almost a decade and no degree to show for it.

Just one dead guy and me.

I had made it about 50 miles out of the city before my bike broke down. I made it about 10 miles on foot before I needed to rest. I made it about 40 feet after the tranquilizer dart hit me.