[ WP ] You can see the darkest secret of everyone you meet . As you enter your house , expecting to see the usual abusive father story of your spouse , you stop ; it has changed .

So long. Sorry. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Development was going really slow this month... but today I did a record amount of work! It felt good to be finished and as I pack up my desk I start to think about my husband, Issac. I hope he's back from work. If he is home, I think we should go out to dinner. 
 
 He'd be so shocked! I do n't like to go out much. It sounds weird... but I can see people's deepest secrets when I look at them. 
 
 I do n't know when I developed this oddity, but I know it was after an accident I was in. My memory is hazy after that. I'm not sure what kind of accident it was either, I really only remember waking up in the hospital. At the same time, maybe it's from playing too many games? The secrets pop up like game menus and scroll with text. They do n't have much detail. Just the person's name, their age, their skills, their likes and dislikes... and of course, their darkest secret. It's like a strange, always on video game. 
 
 One of my co-workers, Jean, stops by my office. `` See you, Isabel,'' She says. Jean Knowles. Age 39. Skills: Accounting, Juggling, Spanish, Writing... focus to see more. Likes: Cats, magic tricks, puzzles, candy... focus to see more. Dislikes: Alcohol, Racism, Sexism, rainy days... focus to see more. Darkest Secret: Currently stalking co-worker Ryan Saunders... focus to see more. 
 
 ``... See you, Jean,'' I say with a smile. I do n't focus on her. I never do. She leaves, seeming pleased. I follow after a little while. The office is pretty empty, which is a relief. 
 
 Once I see it, that menu does n't close unless I read it. I'm not sure why. So I always know what someone's secrets are. It even works on TVs, so I only watch cartoons. I got an adBlocker extension for my internet so that I did n't have to see the secrets of those people in ads. I have to take buses so I do n't crash a car from all of the menus piling up in front of me. 
 
 Stepping outside, I notice that the bus is just pulling up at the stop in front of my building. Lucky! Today's really going my way! I hop on and sit down. It's practically empty. Super lucky! There are only four people today! Lisa Waters, age 56, sits across from me. D'wan Jones is to my left, age 19. Sherry Quince, age 29 is to my right. The bus driver is Mike Reynolds, age 23. 
 
 The bus is pretty bad, but not as bad as driving. I ca n't see out of the windows well, so I do n't get information on people outside. Just the people inside with me. Like Lisa, who is good at... underwater basket weaving? Why? And D'wan, a mathematics genius. Now that I'm looking, his bag has a lot of math books sticking out of it. And Sherry, who is good at guessing ages. I wonder if she does it on bus rides like this. And Mike is apparently good at driving. So I guess that's why he got this job. 
 
 At times, this weird ability is a boon. Knowing someone's likes and dislikes makes it easier for you to manipulate them into liking you or make them more willing to ignore you. Lisa and D'wan are the only two with similar likes, since they both seem to really like motorcycles. The others do n't have anything in common as far as likes are concerned, but they all hate traffic. Ca n't blame them, though. Work is only five stops away from my home and I ca n't stand traffic on the short trip to and from work. It's annoying. 
 
 When we reach my stop, I get off the bus and search my purse for keys as I head to the door. This part is crucial. There's always too many people outside of my apartment building, and I really do n't need to know just who molested whom or who was molested by whom or whatever awful crimes the people around me committed. I hurry into the lobby of my building. 
 
 `` Afternoon, Miss Satire.'' The doorman says. His name is William Rudgers, he's in his 80s. Pff, okay. He's 81. I'm not sure why he keeps working here. In his likes, it says he likes people, maybe it's that? The guy is a saint though. The worst thing he ever did is cheat to get a job. Adorable. The guy who lived across from me murders animals, but this 80 year old man cheated to get a job. It's kind of funny. 
 
 `` Afternoon, Bill.'' I respond. `` How are you?'' 
 
 `` Killing time, doing fine,'' He says with a laugh. `` Mr. Satire got back early today, so you do n't have any mail.'' 
 
 `` Oh? Great!'' I say cheerily. Issac's back before me? Perfect! We can go out and get a steaks. He loves those. I go to the elevator and push the button to head up. `` Now Bill,'' I say, looking back at him. `` Do n't work too hard.'' 
 
 `` Do I ever work too hard, young lady?'' He asks, straightening up. I chuckle. 
 
 `` No sir. Just hard enough.'' I respond. He grins and the elevator doors open. 
 
 `` Have a good night,'' he says as I step in and press'3'. 
 
 `` You too,'' I respond, before the doors close. 
 
 The climb to my floor is short. I hurry down the hall and step into my apartment. 
 
 It's a mess. 
 
 There's paper strewn everywhere, newspapers and printer pages alike. On the whiteboard we keep in the hall towards the kitchen, there's scribbling and circles in red and blue. Lots of lines too, and arrows pointing at things that are circled. Cups are all over the floor. The mail is piled neatly on the coffee table though. 
 
 `` Issac?'' I call. He does n't respond. I kick off my shoes and head down the hall towards the bedroom. The door is ajar. `` Issac? Are you asleep?'' I ask, pushing the door open. He turns to face me, his dark hair messy, his eyes wide. He looks like he's been through the washing machine. 
 
 `` Do n't focus!'' He shouts. 
 
 `` Wha...?'' I ask. His menu pops up. Issac Satire. Age 45. Skills: Virology, Surgery, Electronics... focus to see more. Likes: Music, Dogs, Mysteries... focus to see more. Dislikes: Non-answers, illogical statements, liars... focus to see more. Darkest Secret: Kills himself. Focus to see more. Wait, kills his -- 
 
 `` I said, do n't focus!'' He says, quieter. 
 
 `` I... I'm not?'' I say, blinking. `` Uh... Why not?'' 
 
 `` You know why.'' He says. `` You know I'm going to kill myself.'' 
 
 `` *UHHHHHHH*...'' My mouth hangs open. 
 
 `` We can dance around it if we want.'' He said. `` But you see them. The menus.'' 
 
 `` **UHHHHHHHHHHH** --'' I go up an octave. 
 
 `` Listen.'' He said. `` Promise me you wo n't focus. When I was in your shoes, I did.'' 
 
 `` When you were -- what the hell are you talking about?'' 
 
 `` Listen, it's weird and it wo n't make sense...'' He runs a hand through his hair. It's messier now. `` But you remember your father, do n't you?'' 
 
 ``... Yeah. Sort of. No.'' 
 
 `` What do you remember?'' 
 
 ``... Just that he died in that accident I was in as a kid.'' 
 
 `` Nothing before that?'' 
 
 ``... No.'' I say. ``... But... why are you asking...?'' 
 
 `` My father abused me, remember?'' Issac said. 
 
 ``...'' I nod gravely. 
 
 `` Did you ever focus on my story?'' 
 
 ``... S-sure...'' I say. It's... weird talking about this... how does he know about the menus...? 
 
 `` Did n't it seem off to you?'' 
 
 `` It...'' I pause. Issac's abuse *was* weird. His dad just... kept doing experiments on him. Over and over... stuff that should've screwed him up. Stuff that should've killed him. Issac did n't seem to have any memory of the last one before he was separated from his father, though. ``... Y-yeah...?'' I say. 
 
 `` Did you ever wonder why?'' 
 
 `` Yeah... but I... was n't going to ask...'' 
 
 `` Do n't worry.'' He sighs. `` You'll know soon enough.'' 
 
 `` I -- do n't get what you're talking about.'' 
 
 `` You're me, Isabel. And I... I'm you. Somehow, one of Dad's stupid experiments got us stuck in a loop.'' Issac said. `` We got into a new machine he made. He was testing to see if he could fuse his children together. Isabel and Issac.'' 
 
 ``...'' I swallow. `` An -- and?'' 
 
 `` And he did n't. He just entangled our lives.'' Issac says, beginning to pace. `` Issac vanished with the memories of his father's maltreatment. Isabel lived with no memory at all. But do you know where Issac went?'' 
 
 I try to think. Issac's past is very hazy. He recalls a lot of orphanages that do n't exist anymore, his degree is from a school that shut down and he barely has any pictures of himself. ``... The... future?'' I guess. 
 
 `` Right.'' Issac says. 
 
 `` What? That was a shot in the dark!'' 
 
 `` I know. But... Issac and Isabel ca n't exist in the same world. When they cross paths, Issac kills himself. And Isabel becomes Issac.'' 
 
 `` What?! How?'' 
 
 ``... I got hit by a car.'' Issac mutters. `` But Issac's body was so damaged, they did n't know if he was a man or a woman. They thought I was Issac, and changed me into him. When I woke up, I remembered everything of my dad's abuse... but not very much else. Not my family... not how I'd gotten here... not how I knew so much about viruses... nothing. My knowledge is not like Isabel's. I do n't know anything about corporate finance like you do.'' 
 
 `` So... I'm going to die? And turn into... Issac?'' 
 
 `` You'll live. I'll die.'' Issac says softly. `` You'll have all of my memories... none of yours.'' 
 
 `` What happens if I focus?'' 
 
 `` Do n't!'' Issac snaps. 
 
 `` I just want to know!'' 
 
 `` I do n't know.'' Issac starts pacing. `` I saw how I'd die and I did n't want to. So I just died another way. Do n't look at it. It'll make you paranoid.'' 
 
 ``... Will I run into another Isabel?'' 
 
 `` I think so.... It... seems like a loop. Maybe I die and become Isabel. After all, I have all the memories Isabel does n't.'' 
 
 I stare at him and finally I say, `` How long do we have left? Before we... uh... die. Is there a time limit?'' 
 
 `` I do n't know.'' 
 
 `` How long have you known about this?'' 
 
 `` I... only just realized.'' He mutters. `` I predicted something that would happen in the news a few weeks ago. The lottery winner. I was trying to figure out why I knew and I wrote down all of my crazy predictions. They're all true. All of them. I... regained my memories from when I was Isabel. Issac and Isabel... they ca n't exist in the same world. That's what Issac told me. One must live. Another must die. Issac always dies. And Issac always lives.'' 
 
 `` I do n't get it. We are existing in the same world. Right now.'' 
 
 `` That's not what I mean. You wo n't get it for a while, okay, so do n't try. And do n't focus.'' He says, grabbing my shoulders. `` Promise me.'' 
 
 I look at his menu. I have the ability... should I focus?
