"METRO, YOU MUST." Julian shakes my shoulders, his red locks falling across his forehead as he looks down on me. "You must describe the events to me. Otherwise, I can be of no assistance."

     "I cannot, Julian. I simply cannot."

     "He has a bullet lodged inside of his brain. I must know the exact circumstances of which it entered."

     "I am a killer."

     "Metro, you are not. You were driven to such actions."

     "I have obtained the satanic nature of my mother."

     "Metro--"

     "Leave me be. I am in no state to explain these events to you."

     "You are in a much better state than the other two," he addresses Sommer and Titus. She wails, quietly now, not to alert any nearby authorities. Titus sits in a dark corner of the room, eyes staring blankly forward. Very much alive, but dead in the same instance.

     "I cannot recall--"

     "You must recall," Julian interrupts me. "For God's sake Metro! His life is dependent on it."

     "Why are you here? Why do you question me so?" I rub my face in the palms of my hands, my head pounding with every heartbeat. Julian raises his arms in frustration.

     "Can you not see my pain?" I murmurer. "I could just...just--die."

     "You are a fool," he says bitterly, rising and turning his back to me. "Enough wallowing in pity. Can you not see? I have the potential to revive your friend!" he exclaims.

     He takes a moment to regain his composure before kneeling beside me on the floor. The bloodstained tiles and the smeared redness on my hands send chills through my body.

     "Metro." Julian's voice holds a solemn, deathly serious tone I have never heard before. My attention to his voice is heightened. "You are no longer in a state of shock; you have the ability to relive the memory. You must recite the exact events that transpired, no matter how painful it will be. From this information, I will do the best that I can to save the life of Jagger. Now tell me, beginning at when you found Titus in the cellar."

     I agree, inhaling deeply. He purses his lips, awaiting my words, remaining crouched beside me on the floor. I have always had the gift of being able to speak with ease, but now the words refuse to cross my lips.

     "Jagger led Sommer and I," I pause, forcing the bitter words out of my mouth. My chest tightens and tongue stings when I say his name. "He led Sommer and I down the corridors to where he saw them--"

     "Who?"

     "My mother, Rupert, and some goon."

     "Continue."

     "We came to the door leading to the cellar. It was unmarked, appearing just as any other door. I had not noticed its presence before. We opened it."

     "It was unlocked?"

     "Yes." I contemplate this. "Indeed, quite strange, for the room must have been highly secretive. Perhaps they forgot in their struggle with Titus. Continuing." I lean my head against the wall behind me. "There was a long, narrow staircase, quite intimidating, to say the least. Old, sunken concrete crumbling beneath us. We crept down it. Upon reaching the end we came to what looked like a dungeon: tall cement walls, large steel doors with no openings or windows. There were no people in sight."

     "Any visible sign that a struggle had occurred there?"

     "No. Yes." I recall. "Blood. On the floors. I remember now. Sommer cried out when she saw it. Titus heard her from his cell and called out to us. He told us we should not have come. He told us to flee. We refused. We were so focused on Titus that we failed to hear the goons coming from behind us. Two...No, three of them. They took Jagger first. He fought back relentlessly, but there were three of them against him singly. While they were distracted, I took Sommer and attempted to return upstairs. As I started up the stairway another figure entered the scene. My mother.

     "'You monster,' I told her. 'You are the lowest scum of the earth. I am ashamed to be your son!'"

     "Quiet!" Julian hushes, handing me a bloodstained cloth. I realize that there are tears spilling from my eyes again. I dab my face with the cloth.

     "My mother is the devil," I whisper, my body trembling.

     "Metro." Julian looks at me with empathy.

     "She had no reaction to my words," I continue.

     "'You have no idea the pain you have caused this family, Metro,' she spoke.

     "And I reached out to strike her. I slapped her. Across the left cheek. After all of the times, she struck me, I finally struck her back. My moment of confidence was soon defeated when a goon took me from behind. I attempted to fight back, but there was never any hope. I am not strong. They threw me in the cell with Titus, Sommer in the cell with...her brother. Titus, he was bruised, bloody, and battered like I. He asked me what they were going to do with us. I told him I could not be sure. Although I did not say it aloud, I was highly aware that there would be more blood and bruises to come. I believe Titus was aware of this also. We were not aware, however, of the devastating amount of loss we were soon to suffer.

     "I apologized to Titus for the great ruckus I had caused. He told me I had no reason to be sorry. He told me he was glad he had finally met me, after so many years of hating me. He told me I was an honest figure. He told me he was proud. And, in that moment, I felt proud. Never has an individual recognized my character in that way before. Not my instructors, not my peers, nor my parents. But my elder brother, he did. He knew me, and he was proud."

     I remain silent for a moment. Julian does not pester me. I look at his face, the emotion in it frightening me.

     "I have never seen you like this before," I state.

     "Nor have I seen you in a state such as this," he responds. I nod slowly in recognition.

     "After an hour or two in the cell, the doors finally opened," I continue. "Titus and I were shocked to see Jagger standing at the entry of the door. Somehow, in his struggle with the goons, he had managed to get hold of a key code that allowed us to exit the cell. We smiled victoriously. But this confidence, this pride, and victoriousness, was quite short-lived."

     I inhale deeply. I do not wish to recall the next events, but I will. For Jagger's life, I will.

     "In an instant, Jagger's body was on the floor. We rushed to his side. Blood began seeping from the back of his head, a bullet lodged in his skull. We turned his body over. His eyes were open. His eyes..."

     "Who shot him?"

     "Rupert," I recall Sommer's screams piercing the air. "He said he would shoot us all."

     "Rupert? The dean--"

     "--of Campion University. Yes, Professor Rupert. My mother quickly entered behind him, yelling and screaming. She was almost unrecognizable in that state. Such insanity. He turned to silence her, taking his eyes off of us for a mere second. I leaped toward him, tearing the gun from his hand and delivering a bullet through his chest. He looked to me, defeated, as he fell--"  

     "Metro, I am highly aware of the difficulty you must feel to express this, but you must speak up so that I can hear you."

     "H-h-he looked to me," my voice trembles, I stutter profusely. "Defeated. As he fell he...As he fell he said:

     "'Metro you are a mere speck of dust in this world. You cannot create change. The world does not change.'

     "Blood leaked from his parted lips. And he was dead. Mother ceased her screaming and looked to me in horror. She ran up the stairs and then a few moments later--"

     "I found you, yes. I can recall the rest."

     "I think I may loose conscience--"

     "I will bring you water. Rest, Metro. I will do the best I can with Jagger." He begins to rise. I take his wrist.

     "Julian?"

     His eyes lack their typical mischievousness, his lips creased in sadness, his brow furrowed.

     "Julian. Thank you."

     He nods and walks into the darkness. I hear the door close behind him.