Anonymous

Who are you? asked the owner of the house in a frightened voice. Frankly, even I didn't know what I was doing there.

My mind kept pricking me with only one question..... Who Am I? Amnesia had always been the bane of my existence. The house owner had a gun pointed over me which enabled the fear to set inside me now. My instincts had started betraying me and I started losing my consciousness. My head felt heavy and my body, it was experiencing immense pain, When I regained my conscience , I realized it was too late. The house owner lying on the floor and the blood laden knife had told all of the story. The knife slid through my hands and dropped on the floor and I fell down on my knees. Tears trickled down my cheeks and I asked myself - Why? A wave of panic swept over me suddenly as I realized that if somebody saw me there, I would be in bigger trouble. So I left that dreadful place and went away somewhere far from there... somewhere I could find my inner peace. My eyes opened only to find myself lying down on the bed. It was just one of those nightmares I guess. Dawn was setting in. I looked out of the window of my apartment... New York looked so beautiful. Sometimes I guess we can't realize how beautiful the world is , we are so lost in the maze of our daily routine to take a break and view the world from a different perspective. The loud ring of my doorbell interrupted my thoughts and none the less stunned me. Who could be there so early in the morning ? I opened the door , it was police. "Is there something wrong officer?" I asked. The officer smiled and locked me up in his handcuffs.  "David Smith! You are under arrest" he announced with authority. "David Smith?! Who is that? You must be mistaken officer, I am Henry Keane !" Said I. "Really Mr.Keane?! Where were you last night then?" officer inquired. I tried to recall .....but everything had blacked out. "What happened MR.KEANE ? Lost for words are you?" said the policeman in a cynical tone.

Indeed I was lost for words.In New York , they say everything is a conspiracy. Guess the world's beauty has it's own nastiness. As I was on my way to jail I realized that my mind was pricking me with the same question yet again..... 

                                                            Who Am I?