"Who are you?"

"Who is anyone?"

"Are you dodging the question?"

"Who says I'm dodging the question?"

"Are you trying to annoy me?"

"What am I doing wrong?"

"By acting like everything is a question?"

"That sounded like a statement, or was it?"

"It was wavered at the end because I'm starting to question myself, what is going on?"

"Are you upset?"

"I'm confused, why won't you go away?"

"I just want to help you, don't you want to be helped?"

"Everyone wants to be helped, what are you doing to help me with."

"I'm don't know, why was I here again?"

Criminal Evaluation Report #10927.

Defendant Letter to Judge. Harrison: 'DON'T BELIEVE THEIR LIES.'

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Listen, I don't have much time. Well, I do, kinda. They told me I could write this 'plea letter' to you for as long as I wish, but I don't believe them. Murderers, the lot of them. Crooked, untrustworthy, heartless murderers. Unlike them. Please, trust me when I say this, I didn't kill that baby.

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Hear me out.

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When I was a little boy, I heard the big lie like you and everyone around me, 'Animals can't surive without oxgen.' I trusted them, like you. Until I did a little digging and found a huge hole it their logic. Fish. Fish are animals, and fish don't breathe. Of course I heard the lie of 'gills' but I tested it, and almost drowned. You can't breathe underwater.

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Of course, I was laughed out of every scientific building, classroom and therapist office because of their bigoted believes. Disgusting how indoctrinated they were. For the past 20 years of my life, I was forced to sit in silence. Listening to uneducated morons around me claiming I was wrong. But I am right! Oxygen is a drug. A drug that kicks in shortly after a baby is born.

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And I know it's AFTER the baby is born, otherwise how else would it breathe inside the mother? The baby gets born, gets addicted to oxgen, 'sufficates' later in life in an accident when actually it is just withdrawl.

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So, I had to test it out. I had to try and stop a baby being addicted to oxgen at birth, to save them from becoming a druggy. I-

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[Paragraphs 7-10 Are Redacted Due To Graphic Nature]

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So yeah, that's when the cops came and they killed the baby. Not me. Don't believe their lies. Oxygen is a drug!

Clouds are fake.

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I know it sounds deranged. Like some weird sci-fi idea cooked up in some morons head on some blog somewhere. But it's true, completely and utterly true. I was once like you, beliving everything I heard and read, but I started to look between the lines. Beyond the fences into the true lies of our century, and the biggest one of them all is the cloud lie.

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Of course you are thinking right now, 'How would they fake clouds'? Well, it's quite simple you see, factories. Coal produces smoke, which produces clouds. Trust me on this, I read it somewhere once. That's why the government wants coal and oil to be constantly burning, not just to fuel our houses, but their lies. They are covering up our skies with smog and ash to cover up their faslehoods. By the way, climate change isn't real. It was made up by us to trick the greater masses into stoping their efforts. Sorry, but it was needed.

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Now, you are probarly thinking 'why?' Why would they lie? And I'll tell you why.

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To cover up the holes.

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We live in a box, and we need air. So, our great god gave us holes to breath through, giving us our life-saving oxgen. Of course though, the government doesn't want us to know about these holes for one simple reason. Church and state. The entire government would collapse and be replaced by our churches if god was proven to be real (Which he has been), and so to save their jobs and keep power they have kept up this ruse for centries.

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Lying to us. Defacing priceless artwork to include their precious clouds. And indoctrinating our children via forcing them to fraw clouds. I will never stand by this, and I hope you won't either. Please, join us. Become enlightened, and help us dismantle big cloud and reveal the holes in our sky.

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I hope this letter finds well, buy gold, and see you soon.

It's just Steve, your average accountant with an electric-blue Mohawk.

A worker for the National Space Museum was found dead hanging from a suspension wire around his midsection over an exhibit while wearing a spacesuit. Foul play is assumed as the worker had bruises all over and the suit was badly damaged.

"Don't do it." Andrew hissed at me as I teetered backwards and forwards on the 12th step. It was an open secret at Gispert High to never set foot on the 13th step of the main hall staircase, every day I would see thousands of kids hesitate before stepping over it in their desperate bid to get to class on time. A few kids were understandable, but everyone including the facility was just to much for me.

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I've always prided myself on my logic and reasoning. Able to deduce the true and factual answer from everything. And this, was just mass paranoia. No, mass stupidity. 13 wasn't unlucky. Nothing was inherently unlucky. It was just pure stupidity, and I was going to prove them wrong.

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'So why was I hesitating?'

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"C'mon." Andrew persisted, "We have class soon. Don't bother with it." Still, I stood there staring at the offending piece of marble. Refusing to take my eyes off of it, like some primal fear of the unknown.

​

Suddenly, and wordlessly, I stepped onto the 13th step. Instantly, Andrew recoiled out of fear, shielding his face out of instinct, yet nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. People continued talking, people kept on walking, No bomb or unforeseen tragedy occurred, putting me or anyone in danger.

​

Crossing my arms, I stared triumphantly at him.

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"You owe me $50 now." I smiled.

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"Wait, something could happen!" He shot back, eyeing the entire room around me. His pale face was slowly growing red with embarrassment.

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"Yeah, you tell me when." And with that, I stepped forward, only to step on nothing.

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While gloating, I had subconsciously flipped back into autopilot. The autopilot that had carried me up these 13 steps of stairs. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, pause, step onto second floor. I was still stuck on phase 12, and was stepping one step higher than I should be to make it to the second floor. I tried desperately to correct myself, and pulled back, slipping on the marble tile edge, and falling backwards down the stairs.

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12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. I hit every single stair, then hit the floor, hard.

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Crunch.

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Darkness surrounded me.

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-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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I was awoken by a heart monitor, or was I just awoken by myself? I will never know. All I do know for certain is that most likely never walk again.

​

I had landed right on my neck at the ground floor. From witness accounts, there was no blood, no mess, just a poor kid falling down the stairs to hit the floor with an awfully sounding crack. Then nothing. No movement whatsoever until Andrew came down after me... like me.

​

In his panic, he had stepped on the 13th step while running down, he tripped... and was less lucky than me. I apparently had to be pulled out from under his corpse as he was a rather large kid. Ran for the quarterback.

​

It's days like these were I consider my place in the world. Where I think that logic isn't what it's all cracked up to be. Is the step truly unlucky? I... still don't know. Even though I might never walk again, and my best friend died a horrible death, I still can't say. Maybe I'm a coward and fool for refusing to look god in the eye and understand that some things are just unlucky.

Sweat pooled around my neck, trapped by my shirt collar as I loosened it for what felt like the 100th time this hour. It was hard to not freak out after everything that's happened, but I was determined not to. For my planet at least. If told me 24 hours ago an intergalactic empire was attempting take over my planet, I would've probably believed you since I was going mad from isolation. Not good being the last of your kind, but I digress. Turns out, some alien race called... something that sounded like ticks and chirps, but was stopped by the best and worst thing to ever be created.

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The lines of bureaucracy.

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You can't buy a planet if another sentient race is on it, and unwilling to sell. Kind of like how you can't buy a house with someone living in it. However, crooked lawyers have transcended humans, and these creatures are pulling some loophole to swing the jury in their favour.

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So. here I was. Sweating up a storm holding unintelligible documents that stated my case.

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"Could Human #2937987189678936871 Please enter court room 17. Your case is in session."

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Turns out they also numbered us for some reason, can't complain. More work on their behalf. I'm currently writing this in pure English, something these aliens can't understand, so if you can read this, wish me luck. Or not. Either I've doomed Earth, or saved it.

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I've got a case to win.

"For the same reason anyone does anything!" The god roared with rambunctious laughter, almost toppling over as he mocked the hero who questioned him, "Pure unadulterated BOREDOM." He paused for a moment before adding with a sly grin, "Totally didn't steal that one."

​

The brave hero looked on in disgust and awe at the abuse of power before him. In shock from the total disregard for human and sentient life alike.

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"You're... sick!" He yelled angrily, prepared to launch into a impromptu speech, but was cut off with more laughter as the god summon a doctors outfit and a clipboard from thin air.

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"And I'm afraid it's terminal!" He shot back as another complete belly laugh escaped him. Suddenly his jovial demeanour disappeared as was replaced by a much more... deadly one. "Oh, and there is another reason."

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The seconds ticked on as the hero waited with baited breath, waiting for him to complete his sentence.

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"FUN!" He screamed out, with a splitting smile and laugh that could rival the entirety of a big top circus tent after a clown had a partially horrible accident.

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"You're kidding."

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"I thought I was sick." He replied.

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"Enough games, this ends now!" The hero yelled back, pulling the sword from his belt.

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"OooOooh! My favourite part!" The demented god chuckled, before lowering his grin and forming small lights of power in his hands.

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"Let's do this."