[ WP ] You 've been able to read minds since you turned 7 . Mostly you watch people 's thoughts passively and undetected but one day someone talks back .

On my seventh birthday, things... Changed, to say the least. The morning began like any other birthday. I woke up, groggy from sleep, and did n't remember it was my birthday until my eyes came to rest on the carefully wrapped present on my dresser. All of a sudden, the morning sleepiness had gone as I eagerly threw off the covers and rushed to open it. Inside of the box was the end of a piece of string taped down, with a note that said `` Follow me''. I followed the string out of the box, out my bedroom door, and down the stairs into the kitchen. Immediately, as I rounded the corner, I saw the same kind of present: a white box with red ribbon at the end of the string. 
 
 
 At the end of string, where the box hid whatever goodies it contained, there was another note: `` Lift me''. I obliged, pulling the box away to reveal several boxes of cake mix, and several containers of frosting. My mom came out of her hiding place around the corner, gave me a hug, and explained that I got to pick what kind of cake I wanted. I made my selection -yellow cake with a mocha frosting- and then prepared for school, like any other day. My mom was the *best* at birthdays, and I was excited to think that today would be extra-special. 
 
 
 It turned out, I was right- but not in the way I had imagined. 
 
 
 I went off to school, and the class before lunch was gym. Keeping with the Elementary school stereotype, we played dodgeball. About halfway through the game, I received Billy Jones's high-velocity kick right to the head. 
 
 
 When I came to in the nurse's office with my mom cooing over me, and Billy looking extremely guilty in the corner, I heard the nurse remark: `` You're lucky, Mrs. Roberts. Not even a concussion.'' I felt fine, and stayed in school for the rest of the day. However, at lunch, it was much louder than usual. Everybody seemed to be screaming! It seemed that nobody had a verbal filter. I heard Jessica talking to Beth about how great her dress was, and then Jessica added, as an afterthought, that she utterly hated Beth. 
 
 
 `` That was weird,'' I thought, `` But Beth did n't seem to care...'' I then looked around at other conversations and noticed that all sorts of similarly strange happenings. It was then that I noticed that every one of these truths that people so bluntly stated were said without opening their mouths. `` Huh. Neat trick.'' I dismissed it as the new trend; communicating without using their lips. After a moment, I realized I must have still been suffering from my earlier head trauma at the hand of Billy's ball. 
 
 
 That was impossible! However, as I soon realized, I could simply reach out to particular individuals and hear their thoughts. It became the norm after a while, even though it was n't, in any way normal. It was just another part of life, and I did n't see any need to tell anyone. My new mind-reading ability was just anther everyday thing. 
 
 
 This was, until, yesterday. It was, again, my birthday; but many years had come and gone since that fateful day when I received my talent. Birthdays had gotten significantly less special, since I had moved out long ago, but I always came home for a surprise. I smiled to myself, thinking about my mom, when I opened the door to my office, and in my desk lay a present. However, I could tell that this was no friendly coworker's gift. Instead of earning my heart, the eerily similar white box with red ribbons sent a shiver down my spine and stood the hairs on my neck at attention. 
 
 
 Before approaching further, I noticed a string running out of the box, which sent a whole new set of chills down my spine. How could somebody know about this intimate detail of my childhood? I scanned the room, and nobody seemed to know about the box or any nefarious plots. Reluctantly, I approached it and opened it, revealing, as I feared, a small note saying `` Follow me'' was inside, attached to the end of the string. With a morbid curiosity, I wondered where it would lead, and followed it to my window. The thread ended at a small point of the glass which was circled. 
 
 
 My curiosity now peaked, I followed the glass, and looked at the office complex across the street, into the main lobby. Out front was a mail truck, and I saw its driver inside the lobby delivering a package. Now, my talent has grown and developed with me. As of right then, it had quite a range to it, and I reached out to the mailman. At first, I read him as frightened. He seemed to be fearing for his life, which seemed rather strange, him just delivering a package and all. 
 
 
 It was this that led me to use my refined skills, and attempt to see from the person's eyes. It rarely worked from such a distance, and the image was n't very clear, but if this was a nefarious plot against me, then I was n't about to risk getting closer. I peered into my targets mind, and saw... Blackness. The image was very unclear, but I saw a scene totally different than what the man delivering the package was seeing. I noticed that there were bags of mail and packages amongst the darkness, and realized, to my horror, that the mailman I was reading was bound in his own truck. 
 
 
 Now my gaze turned to the imposter postal service member. He had reached the concierge desk, and held in his hands a white box with a red ribbon. I could n't see it very clearly, but I knew that this man had to be who orchestrated this strange and frightening occurrence. I reached out into his mind, and to my complete horror, heard... Nothing. Then, very slowly and very calculated, I received a message back. 
 
 
 `` We know about you, Mr. Roberts.'' 
 
 
 Then, to add to my horror, my mind was... Pulled in to his. I could n't control it. He forced me to see what he saw: in perfect clarity, the nondescript white box with a red ribbon and a note that read `` Lift me''. He handed it to the concierge, and then quickly walked out of the building. He stood in front of the lobby, and looked across the street. Not stopping there, his gaze rose to the exact floor I was on, into my office, and I felt a horrible chill. This must be what it was like to have my own mind read. He smiled, and knew that I could sense him doing so. He said one final thing; by with his mouth, but his mind. It was like a dull, cold ache: 
 
 
 `` We'll be in touch.'' 
 
 
 The lobby behind him burst into flame as the package exploded.
