Author's note: I am open to suggestions even more than usual since I am not one hundred percent happy with this chapter. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated. 

The soothing atmosphere of the pleasant kitchen we entered was like salve to my bleeding wounds. It endeavored to mend them swiftly. However, I was aware that until I have corrected my dreadful mistake, no peace would envelop me in its gentle embrace.

At least the sight of Rebecca sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea offered some comfort to my troubled mind.

"Shawn, it's so nice of you to come," Rebecca said politely.

If she had known that I was the sole cause of her misery, I was convinced she would have reacted differently to my presence. However, as it was, she was the most gracious host.

"I am pleased to note your swift recovery," I stated.

"Thank you. Please, have a seat," Rebecca said.

Following her invitation, I settled myself between K and Marisol, hoping that Marisol's presence would allow me the clarity of mind that I did not possess.

"Shawn, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Marisol whispered to me.

I was tempted to reveal my deepest, most shameful secret to her immediately, yet I possessed no courage to do so. How was I to inform her that I had not seen a ghost but released my own demons?

"I am rather well, merely surprised by Rebecca's sudden restoration," I said.

Marisol did not seem to believe in the truthfulness of my words. However, she chose not to make further inquiries.

I was both gladdened and saddened by the fact that she made no further inquires. At the same time, I felt the excruciating need to share my burden with someone, yet I worried the truth might destroy their spirits.

After all, my mind was almost fractured two times. I wished not that kind of confusion and pain to anyone, even to my worst enemies, let alone to my friends.

As we were enjoying the calming effect of tea and biscuits, a loud pinging resonated from all around me. Though I knew those were those wretched devices, 'mobile phones' it did not lessen my vexation with the painful intrusion.

However, everyone around me looked at their devices, and suddenly all color left their cheeks. It was as if it was washed away by a gale of worry.

"What is the matter?" I inquired.

"This can't be true," Rebecca said.

"It must be a prank," K added.

"Isn't it a bit too early for Halloween?" Marisol added to the crowd of odd statements.

"What are you referring to?" I inquired, utterly vexed by their disregard of my previous query.

"There is a video of a witch, demon, and a ghost going around town causing problems. But I am sure it's some kind of trick. They're probably just kids playing games using technology. Still, I must admit it does look very realistic." Marisol said.

"My dear lady, I am afraid that is because they are as real as we are. It is all my fault." I said before I could stop myself.

I still needed to decide how much of the unpleasant truth I was willing to share with them. However, I was aware that I had to enlighten my friends about the events surrounding the emergence of those fiends.

Unfortunately, that entailed divulging my role in what had occurred to Rebecca. As a consequence, I am bound to lose her and K's friendship.

However, my hope is that at least Marisol would be forgiving toward me having in mind that everything I had done, I did having the best of intentions.

"Shawn, don't be ridiculous, they aren't real. Things like these can't be real. It's impossible. Besides, I have no idea why you would consider any of it, real or not to be your fault. I know for a fact that you've spent more time helping your friends than doing anything else." Marisol said, smiling serenely at me.

Her radiant smile caused me to hesitate since I knew that revealing the truth would erase it, perhaps forever. Was I willing to risk my happiness with her for the truth, which might scarcely matter?

My decision was hastened when I saw on one of their 'phones' the devil strike a little girl and her mother, hurting both delicate women in the process.

I realized that I was accurate when I once said: "Truth is truth to the end of reckoning."

No matter what task I undertook, I could not change that. It was time for me to be honest with my friends as truth could not be altered. Furthermore, I was hoping that they would aid me in finding a solution that my confused mind was missing.

"I am afraid that what you are seeing is real, and my naivety is partly responsible for its creation," I said.

"Come on, Shawn, don't be ridiculous. You're talking crazy and I know you're not a wacko." K said.

"Your words are precisely the reason why I have not divulged the truth to any of you. Countless times in the past, I have been seen as mad when all I did was reveal the truth about my origins. However, I beg of thee, to hear my tale first and only upon hearing everything judge my sanity," I said as earnestly as possible.

It was apparent that they considered it folly to even contemplate such an impossible notion. However, my companions decided to respect an old man's wishes. At least that was what I could perceive in K's and Rebecca's expression. I am still not quite sure what inspired Marisol to listen to a tale that went against her sound reasoning.

"All of you have noted at one point in time or another that my speech was rather odd according to the modern standards, reminiscent of the olden days. You have logically assumed that I was bred in an old-fashioned household, which is partially correct.

"Furthermore, you noted my narrow view of the world and prejudices I showed. Not only that, but I am certain that you all remarked that I am even more unfamiliar with the unusual devices that you seem to rely upon so much. Much more so than an ordinary person of my age is. Once again, you rightfully assumed that it was because of the way I was raised. That is accurate. However, there is more to the tale of my life than meets the eye," I said.

"What do you mean?" Marisol asked, worry coloring her voice.

I inhaled sharply, preparing myself for what was to happen since I knew what turmoil my subsequent words would form. It was necessary to pronounce them, yet I dreaded them, I feared that those dearest to me would believe I was insane. Their opinion mattered far more than that of other people.

"My name is not Shawn O'Pear. My name is William Shakespeare, Bard of Avon," I revealed in one breath.