[ WP ] All people born have a number engraved on their skin , and for the past few centuries , the number has been gradually going down . You are number one

As the news reporter on the TV suddenly began speaking, I was stirred from my couch-locked daze. 
 
 `` And the search continues for the fabled Number One, marking the 25th year that this person has gone under the radar. Undetected.'' 
 
 I was born in silence. In secrecy. In solitude. Why? Well simply because there happens to be the number one engraved in my skin. On my arm to be exact, right above where the elbow bends. What does it mean? Why me? Why number one? 
 
 I do n't care. 
 
 They have been looking for me for twenty five years. Ever since I was born. It's almost as if they know I'm here, watching them search for me. But how do they know I even exist? How do they know there even is a number one? This has become my entire life. Theories, fear, hiding. So many why's; how's. 
 
 For now I feel as thought I should wait for this all to blow over. Is n't it just another Y2K? 2012? Some big, useless hype that entertains the masses for far too long? This is what I hope. This is what I choose to believe. Rolling down my sleeve, slowly watching the number one hide away, I sighed. Humans will be humans. These number may mean nothing, but here I am with the most important number of all. Not # 777, he is thought of as a god now. Not # 666, for he is imprisoned for life. Not # 911, for he was somehow dubbed a super cop? I do n't even know how that one works. 
 
 But me? I am # 1. THE # 1. The only # 1. 
 
 A small, aged revolver, six barrels, sat next to me on the couch. I stared at it for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps it's best if there never was a # 1.
