“Stay away from me, Satan’s spawn!” Loretta Winfried screamed as she took off one of her shoes and threw it at me.

I dodged, and the shoe hit Theodore instead. He howled in pain.

Next time I should’ve levitated that shoe, I thought.

“How dare you hit my son!” Richard yelled. He got so riled up that he fell off his wheelchair.

“Let me help you up,” Malik said. He picked up Richard and gently placed him on the chair. “You know, you remind me of Mr. Victor.”

Mr. Victor was a character in my story who was one of the Orphanage staff. He treated Malik very well, and was tragically killed off during the Orphanage attack. Mr. Victor also had a wheelchair.

“It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!” Theodore cried.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw the shoe at you! Let me help,” Loretta rushed over to Theodore, forgetting about me. Thankfully.

“Who is Mr. Victor?” Richard asked.

“Someone who made my childhood better,” Malik gave a soft wistful smile.

“Poor child,” Loretta said to Theodore. “It's sore around your nose. I didn’t mean to. It hurt so much.”

“It does hurt like hell,” Theodore said. “But honestly, I hurt a bit everyday.”

“It is because of your weight,” Loretta said. “I haven’t talked about that, but your weight is enormous. Your life is at risk.”

“I know,” Theodore said. “But I don’t know. Life is already hard, and I just don’t have the fucking energy to do anything but eat.”

“I know,” Loretta said. “But child, you are a sweet adorable thing, and your life is worth fighting for. So you must fight for yourself! You must lose weight so that you don't die prematurely or if you do die, you die without any regrets.”

I knew Loretta was talking about herself with that last sentence.

“How do I begin? Doctors gave me a lot of papers that would help me and I threw them out.”

“I’ll write some food that is good for you,” Loretta said. “And I’ll write a simple exercise regimen that is good for beginners. Feel free to ask other doctors if my help isn’t enough.”

Loretta went into her pocket and pulled out a notepad and a pen and began writing.

Meanwhile, Malik and Richard were engaging in their own conversation.

“How is Mr. Victor now?” Richard asked him.

“Dead,” Malik said. “He was killed.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “Did they arrest the murderer?”

“No,” Malik said. “I wish I was stronger so I could’ve fought and killed his murderers.”

“You shouldn’t be guilty over that,” Richard said. “His death wasn’t your fault. Someone I know was also killed. A long time ago, my best friend Anthony was shot. And you know why? It’s because he was driving to my birthday dinner. Had I not had that birthday dinner, he wouldn't have driven down the wrong lane, and he’d still be alive.”

“I guess we both have guilt,” Malik said. “How do you deal with it without going insane?”

“After speaking to a therapist, I learned that I shouldn’t blame myself for something that wasn’t even my fault. You too, Malik was it? Don’t blame yourself. You shouldn’t feel terrible about stuff other people did.”

“Thanks,” Malik said. “Also, what is driving and what is a therapist?”

“You don't know what a therapist and what driving is?” Richard laughed. “What kind of world do you live in?”

Suddenly, I heard someone else get summoned.

Finally someone new, I thought. I turned around. It was a man who I recognized as Gabriel. Gabriel was a character who essentially had visions of his future wedding ever since he was a young child. He was the first character I decided to write to have a happy ending.

“This must be another vision,” Gabriel said. “Only this doesn’t look anything like Heaven.”

“That is because you aren’t in Heaven,” I said. “My name is Katsu and I summoned you to my magician’s sanctum.”

“You are a real magician?” Gabriel cried. “Why did you summon me then? Are you here to kill me because you heard about my visions somehow?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I literally created you and your visions.”

“You are God? I knew a God existed. Are you a christian or muslim god? Or are you just a random god?”

“The christian god and the muslim god are the same,” I said. “I’m pretty sure you should know that as I wrote you to be in Theology class. Also, I’m not a god. I'm a human with magic.”

“You wrote me to be in Theology?” Gabriel asked. “Who are you?”

“Don't be too hard about it,” Malik told Gabriel.

“Yeah I’m probably in some dream or vision that is weirdly realistic and vivid,” Gabriel said.

Suddenly, someone had a muffled scream. At the corner of the room, I saw the next person who was summoned. It was Susan. I wrote her to be one of the numerous women who was captured by Ted Bundy.

“What the fuck, excuse my language,” Gabriel cried. He rushed over to Susan and ripped the duct tape off her mouth.

“Where am I?” Susan screamed. “I must be in some dream before TED BUNDY KILLS ME.”

“Ted Bundy?” Gabriel asked. “Ted Bundy isn’t going to kill you. He was dead for twenty years.”

“Wait. What year is it, right now?” Susan asked.

“It is 2009 for me,” Gabriel said.

“What?” Susan asked. “It is 1974 for me.”

“Oh god,” Gabriel said. “You are from the past. And I’m pretty sure Ted Bundy killed a lot of women in 1974.”

“So I’m going to die?” Susan started crying.

“Not if I can help it,” Malik said. “I will kill this Ted Bundy for you. I have a hammer.”

“He has a gun,” Susan said. “He’ll shoot you dead before you do anything.”

“What is a gun?”

I kinda regret making Malik’s world from before 1AD.