Who am I? Who could I have been? Was I a good man or was I detestable? Did I have a family or someone to call my own? Will someone ever knock on my door...saying that they knew me and that I was their long lost kin? Questions and more questions like these swarmed in my head..buzzing like bees over flowers. The more I willed myself to push my thoughts aside, the more I began to wonder what would have happened, for me to lose every single memory of myself that gave me my identification..that represented who I was...
Everything in my life felt surreal. It was as if I was forced to lead a life which was not mine. I neither felt a connection nor recognition towards anything but, there was one word that haunted my mind. On the left side of my chest...tattooed in bold black ink....Manipulator.
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The Manipulator
FantasyChance had no memories of his past. Yet, there was one word that plagued his mind and he had no idea what it meant to him, Manipulator.
