December 30, 2005

A group of teenagers, all settling around the age of seventeen, walked out of the crowding Cineplex, talking amongst themselves. They shoved through the constricted crowd of eager movie lovers. The six of them were; Robin, Franky, Sam, Chris, Curtis and Shelly. They busied themselves in dire conversation about the film they've previously viewed. The group talked and pushed until they were outside of the theater. The night twinkled with the winter starry sky, but somehow the moon hid itself somewhere.

Shelly was still trembling. "I don't get why James didn't direct the film? He would've made it a lot better! Not to say it wasn't good already." She took her shaking hand and continued to stuff herself with buttery popcorn. A rare sight for a skinny girl like her.

"You gotta remember that the guy had other films in plan, like "Silence". Bousman just stepped up and did the film in his place. He really did a hell of a job too!" Chris said, warming up his hands from the chilly weather. Winter was indeed coming soon.

Both Robin and Franky remained quiet. Sam merely shrugged and said, " I still don't get why she didn't just turn the other way when she still had the first hand in the glass box. I mean her hand can only twist so far, so you gotta twist the rest of the body." He sighed and looked at the cloud coming from his mouth. "But all in all, it was pretty good, not my type of film though."

Curtis smiled. "You know, I loved that poster."

"Which one, the one with the two fingers?" Shelly asked.

"Yeah, last year I bought the poster that had Shawnee Smith's head in that head thingy. So, I might buy the new one too."

"I tell you one thing, those finger's needed a manicure." Shelly had started to laugh hysterically, with Robin smiling too. The other four guys just looked at her with a "no" expression.

Franky had finally opened his mouth. "You know, I think that maybe, just maybe that lady investigator that the detective screamed at could be tied in with Cramer's family."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked curiously.

"Oh never mind." Franky said uneasily. He minded the fact that he was the quiet, cool looking guy who thought a lot. Sam only turned to Chris as they talked on about if they should make a sequel or not, and the group walked across the parking lot of the theater together. Franky, on the other hand, had thoughts racing in and out of his head about the film. He loved the franchise of "SAW". At times, he even thought of Jigsaw as a hero, not a villain. To him, nobody but himself would understand why.

That night at a public high school, several dark figures scrambled across the school's lawn in total silence and precaution. They quietly made their way around the building up to the back of school where the school loaded and unloaded supplies. They came up to a door, one of them stayed to keep surveillance. The others silently talked amongst themselves as one of them began to work on something with the handle.

There was a soft "clank" and the door was opened. All but one went inside carrying bags, while that one stayed as a messenger from the watchman and the others. Half an hour sped by as the night crawled over. Finally, the group of strangers scurried over with large bags and boxes and exited the building. One of them locked the door just as it had been before and they all talked amongst themselves and ran across the school's lawn with and disappeared into the night.

Franky laid on his bed with eyes wide open. It was going on two in the morning in a few minutes time and he still hadn't slept yet. His room was black and silent, save for the few random cars that swept by the street, their lights flashing by his window. He still had his day clothes on, his hair was a mess and he smelled a lot like popcorn, but all in all he wasn't in the mood for a calm and resting night. His mind raced with thoughts and assumptions. Somehow, someway, he had gotten himself obsessed with Jigsaw and his motives, though it was impossible to see from an outside look at him.

He wasn't a man to say more than he needed, but deep inside of him he had a million ideas running here and there. Theories and Philosophies, all safely kept inside his mind. At times, he would think that there were others like him, then he would fear that he below the normal level, and then later on he just accepted the fact that he loved to think beyond the box, basically until the box wasn't there no longer.

He just laid on his back with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, thinking and imagining what Jigsaw would've been face to face. He even began to scare himself at how intense his love for the franchise was. He wrote brilliant stories and countless letters to the directors, with no reply. But it didn't bother him, it need not to for the straining of his eyes had it's effects. His eyes slowly closed and his mind faded away.

He had a dream that night where he awoke to find his leg chained to the wall, his head strapped inside to one of those "Reverse Bear Traps" and his body covered in sticking needles. He couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe. He just looked and thought more of his theories. Franky then he heard a clock ticking and a distorted voice among the shadows of the dark corners of the room, "Time's ticking Franky, what are you going to do?" Franky still couldn't move and he found himself being dragged into a burning furnace. He tried to scream but he couldn't breathe in the air. He just looked at the open furnace and the flames licking his feet. Before his body was engulfed in flames, he head the final words of Jigsaw's eerie voice, "Most people are so ungrateful to be alive, but you won't be. Your game's not over yet Franky."

Franky opened his eyes. He felt himself become sweaty and hot so he sat up in his bed and took off his shirt. It was four-thirty and he couldn't go back to sleep. He didn't know why this is happening, he just had the urge to know more about Jigsaw's intentions. He sat up on his bed thinking to himself.

Ever since the first film came out, he had been intrigued about his theories on human life. But there was one that Franky himself still couldn't understand; If a human life was meant to make mistakes, wouldn't it be natural for man to sin over and over again? But if man kept sinning the same sins on and on, then their life wouldn't be of any worth because their ability to repent has been denied. Not by God but by the man himself. So, if Jigsaw intended to "open the eyes" of man to their continuing sins, then why does he need a near death experience to teach them. Some would say "beat the child, tame the wild" so his actions of those "death games" would help put man in a situation where they would learn from their actions or die trying. In both cases they would at least gain some knowledge on their sins, if they don't try to save themselves then they believe that their actions in sins were worth more than their life so like denying God's mercy for repent, they denied the opportunity to free themselves. So in the end, it all depends on the person's choice between excepting their sins for the better or the worse.

But Franky still couldn't grasp the concept behind Jigsaw's "ultimate" theory. If man was man, would he not make mistakes? If Monster was Monster, would it not continue to destroy? If man was a monster would he not continue to make mistakes? It all just kept swirling around until he faded away in a most uncomfortable trance of memories and theories. Franky laid back down and slept again, thinking: Was man a monster to be tamed? That was it. That was the theory he was looking for. But his head began to burn, as did his memories of that night. Everything had been forgotten and disappeared into the abyss of lost brilliance.

The next morning he got up with a massive headache and his body was weary and aching. He didn't remember anything from the night before so he didn't make nothing of the pain. Franky's parents were off to work when looked outside for their cars. The sun was bright and shiny, he didn't look at the time but he assumed that it was around nine in the morning. He turned on the television and began making himself some cereal. The news had suddenly came on and there was a woman in the background. "-There has been no confirmed suspects but police are looking for any clues or trace that will help them with the robbery. I'll say it again, the Mark Daniels High School has been broken into with tools, supplies, money and equipment stolen last night. There has been no sign of struggle or trouble and they left without any evidence to confirm suspects at the time-"

Franky looked back at the television with curious eyes. "That's my school."