No one was aware of the existence of the town of Clammy, no one until 17 July 1975, that day suddenly the world knew every single detail about: "The most disturbing place on the face of the earth", had been renamed so by all the newspapers American journalists. The first deaths had hardly been news, it was a 45-year-old bum who died from an overdose and a few months later a paranoid old woman fell from the stairs of the house with her neck broken in two. Nothing extraordinary, they were simply dead: a woman with persecution delusions who ran down the stairs from some kind of shadow and a drug addict who was definitely too fond of heroin. Here, however, that on 17 July 1975 the five boys drowned near the beach of the pier, without signs of violence or suffocation, attracted the curiosity of many, it seemed that they had died in little more than a puddle where even a child of few years he would have hit the bottom with his feet, the water level was really very low.
Life is like a painting and you're the one to choose how it will look. Mine is a torn mess filled with the faces of fear. I think its truly a wonderful painting. This is the story of me and my new friends. I see myselfas not a bad person but as a vigilante of sorts. I want to make the world better one way or another.
I once put my trust in the wrong hands and maybe thats why I'm here. Or maybe this is how it was supposed to be and always been.
Since then I've been taking life one step at at a time not knowing exactly how I came to be. Now is the time to get answers I never thought to ask.