I wake up with a splitting headache. I try to blink my eyes into focus so that I can get a good look at my surroundings. Once my eyes focus, I look around. I see that I''m hooked up to a heart monitor. I look down at my clothing. It''s obvious that I''m wearing a hospital gown. My hair feels sticky. I reach for my head and feel wires from the leads sticking to my head from the neural monitors. The bed next to me is empty. I look out of the window and see that night has fallen. I look for the button so that I can call for some help. I find it and press it. Within a minute, a nurse comes in and is standing over my bed, a smile on her face.


    Bang! The gun fires, the bullet finds it''s mark, and blood sprays like a punctured spray paint can as the guard drops like a marionette who''s strings have been cut.


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    I walk out of the parking garage and down the street. I hear sirens off in the distance and they are starting to get closer. I decide to break out in to a sprint and run as fast as I can. I turn down a side street and find myself staring at a clothing bank half a block down. I walk toward the clothing bank and pull on the door. It''s locked and the lights are off.


    “Wish I had a way to get in without breaking anything or setting off alarms.” I say. My headache flares, and there''s a flash of light. I''m holding a lockpick kit in my hands.


    I continue walking for several more blocks until I find myself standing in front of a large apartment building. At the door, there is a man dressed in what kind of looks like a bellhop''s uniform.


    That''s kind of weird to have in a closet


    I end the phone call. I can''t believe that I just pulled that off.