I love secrets. The feeling is amazing. Absolutely amazing to know something that others don't know. Especially when all others are dying to find out, okay maybe not 'dying' but curious to find out the reason or in need of an explanation for something that has baffled them. Well, there are two types of secrets. One, no one knows of its existence and the second, you don't know who? when? where? what? why? and how?
If I were to tell you that a pirate belonging to the 16th century buried his treasure chest in an island and died without telling anyone, then it's a lost case. No one in the damn world would be aware of that. That's the first kind of secret. The second one for instance is, your dad told you a secret but your mom is desperate to find out what he told you. Your mom knows something fishy is going on, but can't guess. Shhh! It's a secret. Maybe they are planning a birthday party! Or maybe the CIA has some classified information on how a famous terrorist actually died, but the general public don't.
Me personally, I like the first kind of secret. It makes me feel powerful to know that I am the bearer of information. Information that no one knows of. Information so powerful that could attract immense attraction. It is god like. Except I don't believe in god. And that is why I haven't capitalised god.
I possess a secret. It all started when I was taken to a psychiatric clinic for my erratic behaviour. My parents thought I was abnormal. I don't blame them, they just listened to what my school had to say. After 6 months of therapy, the psychiatrist informed my parents that I had Histrionic personality disorder. I didn't even know what it meant back then. But when I did, I had to prove everyone wrong. Everyone. Those bullies in school, my family, my teachers, my fake friends. Just everyone.
So, three years ago, I had the chance to possess my own secret. It started off as an accident but then, much to my amusement it turned out to be one of the best kept secret. But then, as time passes, a secret loses its charm, why? because nothing comes out of it. Even I cannot feel happy knowing that I know something but that 'something' fades out from your life.
So I found a way to keep the secret alive.
How?
by exposing it.
How?
by blogging it........... right here.
By saying that, it does not mean it's not a secret anymore. It still is because I create a blog among millions of other blogs, and this particular blog remains a secret, I don't give anyone the address nor tell anyone of it's existence. Of-course someone may stumble upon this blog accidentally, but I doubt they will read this and even if they, they would dismiss it as utter crap. You see, that's the beauty.
I am happy that I am living dangerously now. I am saying this because, the secret I possess is not ordinary. It is dangerous.
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CASE ZERO:
Three years ago, when my brother's wife had just given birth to a premature baby, the ill-fated baby was kept on a ventilator. I had gone to visit them at the hospital. I had the chance to visit the ward where numerous babies were set to a ventilator and I stood seeing from behind a glass panel all those little beings sleeping. The nurse in charge stepped out for I don't know why. So I sneaked in trying to find the name tag of the mother wrapped on the baby's tiny wrist. When I found the right one, I stood watching. I don't know what came over me, but I found the ventilator switch and decided to turn it off to see what happened. I turned it off. I left the room. In a few hours time, we got the bad news. The next day, a nurse and a duty doctor were arrested from the hospital. It made the headlines.
CASE SIX:
The yearly science fair was conducted late june in our school. Every room was packed with parents, teachers and kids. I was in the chemistry lab when a small kid came up to me asking for the water dispenser. I gave him the glass beaker which was kept across the table filled with something water like. I told him it was water and asked him to drink it up. As I left the room, I could hear a loud scream followed by more screaming, I fled the scene chuckling. No one had the faintest memory of me being in the room nor did anyone question me. The kid had died, apparently it was sulfuric acid in the beaker.
CASE THIRTY NINE, FORTY THREE:
This is my favourite case. It is because I made a brilliant execution here. I never liked the neighbour next door. Don't ask me why, but I detested him. His appearance made me puke. So I wanted to send him away forever. Cleverly though. I broke into his flat one night (he had given us their spare key for safe keeping) without anyone's knowledge while he was sound asleep. Turned on the gas in the kitchen, took the main key from the key hanger and set fire to the curtains with the help of a lighter, at first it burnt slowly, as the fire started to burn, I ran out and locked from outside. No one saw me, I went back to my flat and waited. My parents were out of town. I waited until I could smell smoke. Then the fire alarm rang. In a few minutes, I heard sirens. Then it was all chaos. The next day they found two charred bodies, a male and a female. I thought he was divorced. Yeah, but who cares.
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That's end of part one. In part two I shall narrate five more cases. My ambition is to cover cases from zero to ninety-nine. As the case number gets higher, I know its going to be harder, but I have to keep this secret alive. I have to.
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