I was walking alone that night, the moonlight lighting a clear path for me, as if the entire universe was showing me the way to my awful destiny. The minute I noticed him walking towards me, I began feeling just a little bit wary. The white light seemed to be shining especially for him so that I could see what he looked like, and he looked appropriately gruesome. He was old, the wrinkles slicing through his face, a frail old man who had gone blind with age, his eyes a mere white vaccuum. He had a knife in his hand, and he began to inch closer and closer towards me. I was walking in the other direction now, desperately searching for a way out of the long, thin road that lay ahead of me, but before I could even react, he pinned me down, and put the metal to my face, and carved me open, the blood bursting out of their bodily prison, my screams rushing through the air, but unable to find anyone to hear them, my nerves so completely overwhelmed with pain that they refused to function anymore.

He now sees the world through my eyes.