My mother opened the door.

"Oh Zack, where have you been all afternoon? It is now eight o' clock in the evening and you've missed you're tea!" she said angrily.

"Never mind about that, mum" I said "I saw it was quite late when I finished my book, so I just went and bought a sandwich in the restaurant down the road."

This was a complete lie. I hadn't eaten anything for hours, but I didn't have any appetite after all that had happened earlier, anyway.

"I'm tired. I think I'll just go to bed"

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, worried.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine" I answered "I just need a bit of sleep..."

My mother and I lived in a nice little neighborhood at the west side of the town. I had lived there all my life and I liked the stillness of the place, quite a distance away from the city centre with all its traffic, pollution and noise.

I had no brothers or sisters, and my father had died when I was only three years old, in a car accident which I barely remember. My mother (whose name was Rachel) hardly ever talked about it, and when I ocasionally asked her to tell me something about Dad, she would always change the topic of conversation quickly, or go and do something else.

"Mum, what was Dad like?" I would ask.

"Not now, Zack. Don't you have homework to do?" Her answer would be something like that.

I think she didn't want to talk about it because it made her sad and want to cry, so in the last few years, I have been bringing up the topic less and less frequently.

My school grades had never been very good either. This didn't mean that I didn't try. I would work very hard for an exam, but I still didn't do great. Towards the end of highschool I really couldn't keep up with everything at once, so (to my mother's great annoyance) I ended up dropping out.

The fact that I didn't have any friends just made things worse. When I was small, the other kids used to bully me a bit, but all through highschool everyone just seemed to ignore my existence completely. But I was used to the feeling, and so I always spent my time reading books and watching movies.

Now, I am eighteen and instead of going to university, I spend my time reading books (my favourites are science-fiction and poetry) and going for walks. Also, I am currently looking for a job and trying to get my driving license.

So far, my life had been pretty normal...until I met that stranger.

***

That same night, I couldn't get a wink of sleep. I was going through all the events that had happened to me that afternoon. It was unbelievable. I had witnessed for the first time (and hopefully the last!) a murder. So many questions were appearing in my head. Why did the stranger kill the so-called George? Did they really form part of a group of assassins? If so, how many of them were there? And the list went on and on...

After a lot of thinking, I finally decided two things:

1. I was going to go to the police station to report the murder first thing in the morning, despite what the stranger/killer had said. What did he mean I will end up hearing about it ? He was probably just trying to scare me, to make me not go. Yeah, well, he commited murder, so justice had to be done.

2. I was not going to tell any of this to my mother, so that she didn't get all worried about me and start a big fuss.

After making these two choices, I was able to get a few hours of sleep, matters being settled.

***

The next morning, I woke up with a start. There was sweat pouring off my body. Then I remembered: I had had a nightmare. I was running through the streets of the uninhabited neighborhood once more, being pursued by an entire gang of assassins. They had ended up catching and torturing me until I died a slow, painful death. I shivered at the thought of it all.

I got up, got dressed and went downstairs to have breakfast.

"Morning" said my mother, while making herself a coffee "did you sleep well?"

"Eeh, yes" I lied, helping myself to a bowl of cornflakes "Oh, by the way mum, I'm about to go for a short walk around the block, just to start the day off and sort of wake up a little. I'll be back before you know it.

"Okay, but don't forget to do the ironing later, though."

"Yeah, yeah, I haven't forgotten. See you later!"

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining and there was barely a cloud in the sky. So off I went, trudging at a steady pace, supposedly just going for a quick walk. But what my mother didn't know was that I was actually heading off toward the city centre, straight to the police station, for only one reason, also concealed from her.

I arrived there after about a quarter of an hours' walk. Then I opened the door and went in.

"Hello" said the police officer at a desk, only a couple o meters away from the entrance "how can I help you?"

I walked up to him, for some reason feeling slightly nervous.

"Hi. I would like to, eeh, report a murder?"

"Oh" said the policeman, raising his eyebrows. He looked about forty five or so, and he had a deep voice. I also couldn't help noticing a big snake tattoo peeping out from under his shirt and crawling up hs neck, which almost looked a bit too... menacing. Apart from that, he was bald.

He took out a black pen and a small piece of paper to write on.

"So, tell me about this murder, lad" he said. He seemed perfectly calm, as if things like this happened to him every day.

I cleared my throat before speaking.

"Well, I was walking around yesterday in this deserted place, with buildings only half-constructed,..."

"I know the place" interrupted the man.

"Okay, and then suddenly I saw two people meet. Two men: A sixty-five year old and a man in his early twenties." I secretly decided to take out the part where I had been following the pair, just to get to the point "Well, after a bit of conversation I couldn't hear, they got into a fight. First, the elderly man threw a knife at the younger guy, but then he got out a gun and shot the other one dead! And that's about it, I suppose. I ran away and the killer didn't see me." Man, I had said a lot of lies.

"Okay..." said the man slowly. He looked deep in thought, almost doubtful "Well, tell me what the killer looked like."

"Right. He was tall, had brown hair, young and agile, I think right-handed,... to tell you the truth, he was a bit strange. He always wore a mysterious but at the same time expressionless look on his face. I didn't like it".

After that, the policeman didn't say anything. He just looked straight at me, with a mixture of interest but doubt on his face.

"Eeh, sir?" I asked, shyly "Are we done, or...?" I left the question hanging in mid-air.

After a long, awkward moment, he finally got up quickly and said "Follow me"

He took me through a doorway and walked down a long corridor. I looked around, but I couldn't see anyone. Where was everybody? This was only my first time in a police station, but I had always assumed that there was more activity going on in this place. Strange.

After a few hallways and staircases (still without seeing anyone) we finally stopped at a metal door. He then opened it and told me to go in.

"Why?" I asked "the room is completely bare."

This was true. There was not one single object in the room, and it smelled damp and wet.

"Just go in" he insisted.

"Alright"

I didn't like the look of the place. The plaster on the walls had come off, only to reveal a dark greenish colour that smelled like rotten vegetables.

I suddenly heard the sound of the policeman locking the door behind him, closing both of us in. That was the signal. The curious officer. The empty police station. The door locking. Something wasn't right.

I turned round to face him.

"Why did you do that?" I asked suspiciously.

The man didn't answer, he just leaned back against the wall with a grim expression on his face. He certainly wasn't happy.

"What did the killer tell you?" he asked all of a sudden.

"What? I just told you he didn't see me." I said slowly. An unsettling feeling was starting to grow in my stomach. He knew something.

"I'm going to ask you again. What did the killer tell you?"

Beads of sweat started to roll down my head, and the unsettling feeling grew even more. I was going to be sick, but I tried to remain as calm as possible.

"Look" I said with a shaky voice "I can't explain it to you in clearer words: He didn't see me!"

"Alright kid, it seems that you have chosen to do this the hard way. Last night, the killer told you that he would let you go, but only if you agreed to not tell the police. You ended up leaving, but then went and told the police anyway. That wasn't very nice, was it?"

My whole body was now shaking with terror. This man knew everything. He wasn't a policeman. He was a criminal. An assassin. He was one of them. They had it all planned out. Undercover agents everywhere. That was when I learnt that I couldn't trust anyone or anything, not even the police.

"This isn't good, kid. Well, not good for you." he continued "Because if I remember correctly, that man told you there would be consequences. Very bad consequences. So...

I didn't let him finish his sentence. I lashed out at him, hurling my wristwatch (which I had been struggling to take off in the last thirty seconds) directly into his right eye.

He then let out an enormous scream, while falling to the floor. That was my chance. I ran to the door, unlocked it and sped down the corridor, not looking back.

"Come back here!!" shouted the man behind me. He sounded in a lot of pain. It must have been a good shot.

But I didn't stop. My heart was beating way too fast, I thought it was going to explode. Down staircases and through hallways I sped, all the time hearing the man shouts just a little behind. There were still no people about. That maniac had probably murdered and hid them all quietly before I had even got there.

After running a while without finding the exit to the building, I decided to rest, and so I dived into a small room, not daring to put the lights on in case the man would see me.

I crouched there, panting for a few seconds in the darkness. That's when I realized I wasn't alone. I couldn't see them, but I heard them breathing steadily. My blood froze, and I didn't move a muscle.

Suddenly the lights flickered on, and in front of me, I saw who else but the killer himself, staring at me with his dark eyes. He had a metal rod in his hands.

"Hello, kid!" he said, before everything went black.