[ WP ] While browsing the internet , you come across an old news article about a missing child who was never found . As you look through it , you see a photo of the child 's parents and vaguely remember their faces .

Darkness reigns placidly outside, while inside my monitors cast a bluish tint on my face, tired, but still not weary enough as to drag myself to bed. I scroll endlessly through the following pages of Google search results, delving into deep and forgotten corners of the internet. I've been looking for the first appearance of the original iPhone, the 1st generation one, in the media. We see leaked information on all kinds of technological products nowadays, but nagging curiosity led me to investigate whether information on this pioneer had been leaked prior to its launch. 
 
 *Downstairs, there is knocking on the door. * Again? I'll just ignore it, it's too early. 
 
 By pure serendipity, I stumble across an old news article about a missing child. The six year-old had been never found again. Fueled by a morbid interest, I skimmed across the article, until a picture of the boy's parents stopped me right in my tracks. 
 
 *Knocking intensifies. * 
 
 Is this a *déjà vu*? Why does this couple seem familiar? I ca n't have seen them in the past, I never see people. I spend most of my time enclosed in my small home, the only stranger I regularly see is Farrukh, the Pakistani doctor that visits me every fortnight. Maybe I've seen them on the internet before... I render out a few cutouts of their faces and start image searching, obsessed by the notion that I should know who they are. The searches turn up nothing. I wonder... Maybe I *have* seen them in the past, and I just ca n't remember... Flashes of my childhood start coming to my mind, the orphanage in which I was raised, the different schools I went to; but the faces of all the caretakers and teachers back there are known to me, I remember them perfectly. 
 
 Suddenly, it strikes me. I know where I saw those grief-torn humans. The first time I went out, I can still remember the excitement... My gloves and boots were brand new, and I had bought the van for a mere 600€ from a scrapyard. It was a miracle that the thing could still get close to the 80km/h. I was a rookie. I left my home too late into the night... I arrived at my destination at half past eleven, it had been dark for hours, and Paul was asleep. It only took me 3 minutes, to smash the bedroom window, climb inside and drag the horrified Paul across the yard and into my van. I sat in the driver's seat, and as I struggled with the ancient clutch to get the van going, checking the wing mirror to look for oncoming traffic, I saw them. Their faces. Their angst. They had seen me. They were running towards me, but I was already speeding away. 
 
 I was never that clumsy afterwards. That was the first and last time I was spotted. 
 
 *Knocking continues. * 
 
 Ah, I guess it's already time, I should feed the boys downstairs. Tomorrow Farrukh will be coming to harvest their kidneys, and he likes healthy children.
