I don’t know how the notion for murder ever came to me. I guess it was all the stress I had been under. I had just been released from the hospital with amnesia; I didn’t remember anything about myself. I didn’t even know my name until my mother told me. Right now, all I know is I’m sixteen years old, although I look about thirty. My name is Richard Hannard. I don’t have a father, but my mother tries hard to play a father and mother for me. And I’m a real loner without many friends.
The doctors said they had done all they could do and sent me home to try to spark my memory, although it didn’t really help. I had been home for three days and it was spring break so I was hanging around the house and doing things that my mother said I loved to do before my fall. Come to think of it I don’t remember a fall, or any pain when I woke up, it was like my memory was just gone, stolen from me, but I had to have fallen, right? I didn’t recognize anything, and my room, a corner in the basement, seemed more foreign to me than anything, even though my mom said I loved it. It was that morning, when I was sitting on my bed reading my favorite book, when he came. My mother yelled for me to come upstairs and meet our guest. He was a tall man, about thirty five, with a military haircut. From the first time I laid eyes on him I didn’t like him. My mom said they had been dating for months and that he and I got along real well, but there was something about him that made me uneasy.
That night at dinner he asked me if I remembered anything before the fall, and I swear after I said no, I saw him smile. For some reason I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t want him around my mother. It was a week after my mother announced he would be moving in when I decided it had to be done. I was still home from school until I remembered more, so I had plenty of time on my hands to plan it out. I knew he liked knives; he had a huge collection of them that he kept on a shelf over his bed in my mother’s room. The plan was simple. I would pocked one of his knives, then stab him with it and knock his other knives down to make it look like an accident. Thinking back the plan wasn’t that great, it definitely wasn’t foolproof. For one thing I had to get one of his knives, and that was easier said than done since he was very protective of them. I asked if I could see one when he was sharpening them the next day, he reluctantly gave it to me. I then turned his attention to a show that had just come on the TV. We watched the show to the end, when I walked out and down to my room. I was sure he would notice, he took such good care of the knives, but he didn’t mention it, so I proceeded with the plan.
Just a few minutes ago it was twelve thirty at night, and I was inching towards his bed. So slowly, oh so slowly I moved through the blackness, creeping to where he laid completely unaware of what was about to happen. I was so nervous, yet so excited, although I didn’t know why. I slowly pulled the knife out of my pocket, and slowly raised it to stab him in the chest. It was then that his hand caught my arm on the way down, and then that I felt the sharp pain in my stomach. I didn’t have to look down to know what had happened, but I did anyway. I saw the handle of a knife sticking out of my stomach. It wasn’t a deadly wound if I could get to the hospital quickly. My mom would save me I just knew it! She would save me and realize how wrong she had been about him, it would all end well! But only now, as my mom puts her arm around him and looks down at me, do I realize it’s all over. And my memory starts to come back. And now it’s all clear. It had all been a set up from the beginning! That isn’t my mom, it’s my wife! I don’t just look thirty, I am thirty! I never lived in the basement; it had all been a trick to get rid of me. But now I know the truth, only about a week too late. And as everything starts to go black, I recognize the man who stabbed me from and add in the newspaper: Want Your Life Changed Forever? Call 555-555-555 and start your hypnotic sessions today.