[ WP ] The only , and deranged , live man on the planet does n't know that he lives among mannequins . Start with the line , `` They do n't usually answer back to what I say . ''

They do n't usually answer back to what I say. I keep trying to start conversation... but none of them will even so much as glance in my direction. They are all so still. So devoid of emotion. I often wonder If everyone got together and decided to ignore my existence. A few times I've looked directly into their eyes. They still do not see me. They see beyond me. It's as if they know all. Yet at the same time. They know nothing. 
 I touched one the other day. Nothing obvious. Just a small brushing with my hand as I walk passed. It was cold. So I touched another to see if it was like the first. Then I touched more of them. They are all cold. They do n't appear to have skin and flesh like I do. I'm frightened. 
 I got bold the other day. I pushed one of them. They fell to the ground and broke in two. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. In that moment I felt all eyes on me. As soon as I came to. I ran. As far and as fast as I could. I murdered someone. 
 Their eyes are always on me now. Everyone knows what I've done. I can see it in the way they look at me. 
 `` I DID N'T MEAN TO KILL THEM!'' I'll shout. In return I get nothing but silence and judgment. 

