I never used to think about her like this. Hell, I never used to think about her at all. I don't know why
I even think about her.
Okay, thats a lie. I think about her because a year ago, a year ago she saved my life. And she
doesn't even know she did it.
She doesn't even know I exist. We never formally meet. For goodness sake! We never even meet
informally! I overheard something she was telling her companions. Something that two days later
saved my life. Only to have my sanity viciously ripped from me mere seconds later.
I used to be respected, loved, accepted. Now they all think I'm crazy.
But I'm not crazy, at least . . . I don't think I am?
Maybe I am crazy.
I'll tell you my story. Then you can decide for yourself.
I guess I should tell you my name?
Part of me is called Bill Weasley, the other part, well, he calls himself Seth.
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So should I continue?
Oh Yeah, Not mine, me poor, blah blah blah