Jeffery noticed that basically everyone else had someone to talk to about what they'd just seen. He shouldn't be jealous, how could he talk to someone about what he'd done? Hoping no one would notice, he silently stood up and went into the bathroom. He shut the door and locked it, hearing the little click near the door-knob. He put his hands on the sink and looked up into the mirror. Who was he? He was Jeffery Philbert, age 17, murderer of his own brother. Jeffery suddenly remembered something and got the pocketknife out of his pocket. The initials on it were JSP. His initials were JSP, but so were Jacob's. That's why the Sneaker Scope in the knife kept spinning while he was holding it. It knew he'd murdered Jacob. It knew he was a killer. He dropped the knife with a clatter onto the floor and started sobbing, letting the tears drop into the sink. He gripped the sides as he looked up into the mirror. As he saw his face, he yelled and punched the mirror, shattering it into a million pieces and cutting his fist. He slid down the wall into a corner, holding his bloody hand, still sobbing. What was wrong with him? Who was he?