If we met I would tell you that my name is Alex Ducharme; I'd tell you I was just staying with my uncle while my parents took care of my grandma, that I was really enjoying England, that I had tons of friends. But that would be lying. My name isn't Alex, I had to leave America because He had found me again, I was hating England, and I had no friends what so ever, unless you count the five rowdy, obnoxious boys who are constantly annoying me. I've lived so many lives, the lies blending together making it seemingly impossible to tell which lies belonged to which life. It's been 6 months and 27 days since it happened. If I hadn't gone to work, I wouldn't have seen Him, heard the shot, or seen one of my best friends lying there in a pool of red. Her green eyes staring in terror suddenly go lifeless. I'll never forget that day no matter how hard I try. When I entered the program I was told I would be safe. So why did He keep finding me?