[ WP ] It 's New Years Eve . Your best friend died in September , you 've been robbed twice , your girl friend is leaving you , you 've just lost your job and the only one left to talk to is a gay burglar you 've got tied up in the kitchen . P.S . Your cat is dead .

`` My cat. You killed my cat...'' I mumble quietly, pacing around my kitchen with a large knife in hand. The man looks up at me, fear in his eyes. My phone bleeps; I ignore it. 
 
 `` You're a psycho, man. Just let me go! I did n't even take anything!'' he shouts at me. I laugh. This is the third time I've been robbed in a month; why? I have no clue. But after the first two times I knew I had to set something up. I found this man in my garage, and he found me with a knife. My phone bleeps again. Again I ignore it. 
 
 `` The thing is, it's New Year's eve. The police will be all tied up, and you ca n't do a thing to stop me, buddy.'' I'm starting to pace faster, becoming more agitated. `` Let me tell you a story: this time last year, my best friend was killed. He was hit by a truck, someone under the influence, according to the police reports. He was thirty years old, and had a family. And now because of some moron, he's dead. His children are without a father and his wife without a husband. Just imagine how crippling that would be - your life taken away from you. Hit by a truck at ninety miles per hour, every bone in your body broken by the sudden impact. Thrown across the road, dead instantly... hopefully. Just imagine that for a minute, and then tell me you have it hard.'' 
 
 He looks at me, terrified, then I see his whole body shake as he begins to cry. I feel nothing. My whole life has collapsed in front of me, and being a sociopath really does n't help. My phone bleeps for a third time. I fish it out of my pocket and see three texts on the screen: 
 
 `` 10:35 - Caroline - We need to talk.'' 
 
 `` 10:42 - Boss - You're fired.'' 
 
 `` 10:45 - Caroline - I ca n't do this. I'm breaking up with you.'' 
 
 I feel that sensation, as if something's been ripped from my life. Well, in a way, it has. My life's pretty much over. Everything I've worked for, gone. I make my way to the man tied up in the centre of my kitchen, and raise the knife... 

