[ WP ] When someone is murdered , their name appears on the skin of the killer . You wake up with a name on your arm and no knowledge of how it got there .

`` Well, this is new, a tattoo embedded onto the arm of mine, but I' ve no recollection of how it got here but, at least it does n't hurt. What happened last night? Well I went from work at 3:15 pm and I went to the... damn it what is that damn place called? It had a weird name. Fuck. Where am I? Well let's see...'' The cracked walls gave me a shiver, for some reason I'm tattooed with the words `` Michael''. I ca n't take my eyes of this abomination of a Tattoo. I reached into my pocket and here it is, a locket; I need some air. The air thickened as I attempt to grasp my recollection of what happened last night, through the claustrophobic hallways, each seemed to reflect the detachment of any human kindness, with each step challenged through the use of screams mimicing my footsteps with pure ferocity. My body seemed to give under the unrivaled nature of this unending tunnel. 
 
 A drop of information arised as I try to recollect what occured. `` I drove to a nearby diner with nothing but my cigerettes and wallet, as I drove to a diner nearby, I believe it's called `` J & C's'' It was n't too fancy, a run down 50's diner that struggled in the face of time. I turned off the car and webt through a singular metallic frame that seemed to have been used as a substitute for a door. The smell was n't too bad I suppose, cheap air freshener was n't as distracting as the 4x4 of plywood that replaced some of the windows. I approached the waitress and ordered a coffee. `` 
 
 `` Did I just pass out''? My legs were trembling as I decided to carry my weakend form through the corridor. I mapped the corridor out to enter the miniscule room. A few furnitures and a table were all that was remotely even usable, as the rest of the stuff here seemed to have either been scattered or beyond former recognition; mostly both. I then stumbled across my diploma, seemed the framing was cracked. My mind chaotic-ly rushed to find something inside the labyrinth like cocoon of the mind. 
 
 `` A sip of my coffee was interrupted by a figure slowly approaching me from the left side, as I had diverted my attention from the chimicals of the darkenned sea. I reluctantly invited him to sit; perhaps company had eased me of my surroundings. He asked me of few questions: what's my job, what's my name and why here? I suppose I ca n't tell him my name or my intention, however I told him my job. I uttered the line `` a teachers assistant''. It was n't too bad, everyone deserved an education. The man grumbled in approval before I offered him a ride back to his house, seemed it was reasonable. So I took the man in my car and we drove.'' 
 
 I became weary of my surroundings. Perhaps I was too embellished in this place. Slowly I had crept downstairs only to be greeted by the man I had spent yesterday with. He had greeted my like an old friend. He asked me of death. The man unravelled his sleeve to reveal the same name `` Michael''. I panicked and roared my question, `` how, why''? `` You do n't remember do you?'' My memories suddenly solidified and connected in ways I never thought was possible. 
 
 `` The road was unrelenting, a chamber of silence deafened the vehicle til the man asked me of why I was carrying my diploma? I had told him that I could n't face the task anymore I quit. As we approached the crossroads, the man had asked me of life, and death. I had told him that death has no bias. Silence. 
 
 The man had uttered a revelation. `` I failed him''. My heart sank, it was like a jolt of regret had invaded my mind, for I too had failed him. He had guided me to a room that seemed to feel cold and abandoned. He had a reflection of deep dispair that haunted my mind as he had proceeded to invite me to a box inscribed `` Michael'' he fetched two glasses and a bottle of scotch. He smoothly poured the scotch smoothly after handing me the glass. `` I was n't there when he needed me the most'' he gloomed. The truth is neither did I. I opened the locket to reveal two tablets and a quote, `` to teach the unteachable and to help the unhelpable.'' I looked at him one final time. I quickly took the tablets and instantly fell ill, `` why?'' Shouted the man. 
 
 I knew his son. I tried to help him. Every day he would say the same thing `` what is death'' I told him that death had an afterlife; I do n't believe it however. But then one day, I showed him the locket. I told him that when i think of death, I hold this locker and it goes away. I was n't thinking that he would take one of my tablets. I failed him. So I resigned. 
 
 Look at him, trying to save my life, I'll unburden him and prove that there's nothing he could have done, for afterall, death has no bias. 
 
 I hope you all enjoy my story. 
 

