I didn't know who, or what, they were when I first met them. I thought they cared about my well being and were just good people, who just happened to be there when I was in the...accident. It was far more than that though. They became my best friends, the only people I could talk to. I didn't see the impending consequence behind their words. Our whole relationship, little did I know, was a sugar coated dream. Nothing more than a pretty nightmare. They were like family, though. Constantly at my side in both good times and bad, always standing up for me, and, mostly, rooting for me. Or, at least, I thought they were. They lead me slowly into their little trap suggesting that we do dangerous, but fun, things every now and then to "relieve some stress." They told me that living the way they did would help me loosen up and get over my anxiety disorder, and I believed them. I did all those terribly dangerous things they asked of me, even going as far as blindly pushing someone off a cliff. I remember that night vividly. The look on the poor boy's face, the instant shock as I realized my actions, the struggle to save him. Thankfully there had been water beneath the cliff. After that I had refused to do anything dangerous for awhile, but we got back to that horrible habit. Then, finally, they were going to push me to a breaking point. They thought they had me in their trap. That night they asked me to kill someone.That night at their house they asked me to brutally murder their mothers, while their families watched. When I refused, they tied me up and tried to kill me too, but a neighbor had heard my screams. And thank God for that neighbor, they saved my life. After the killings I learned that they also had partially been the cause of the explosion that caused my memory loss. This was why they recruited me they thought I'd have no memory of what we'd do or what we'd done. I didn't know who, or what, they were when I first met them, but now? Now, I know they're monsters.