In some ways, even before you first decided to put pen to page, you've always been a storyteller. You've always had the gift for spinning a web around yourself, weaving together the strands of truth and lies and maybe so's, until no one could possibly tell them apart. You thought, maybe this way you could protect yourself. Maybe this way you could protect Charlie. As long as you maintained the charade until you got the hell out of this city for good- You couldn't have been more wrong. -- England, 1983. A university student traps himself in his own narrative, kills his sister, and gets prank-called. Not in that specific order, though.