Being around teenagers all the time, he knew that they were well influenced when they were young. He noticed this in them, as young as seven years old. At seven, children start to learn, they already know how to read and write, and soon after would come math, but not only this, at this age they start to understand things around them, even if sometimes in the wrong way. A child can be influenced to be close to another child, most friendships start very early because pre-teens have no concrete beliefs, no formed personality of their own, they have no values to follow, and they just live for others. Winston knew this better than anyone. If he put one child in an environment with another, they would understand each other, and if their friendship were nurtured, the bond would strengthen, strong enough that neither side would want it broken. For the theory to work, the people would need to have a strong bond, but if he couldn't find them, he could then create them. That was the plan, he had to create bonds between the teenagers from an early age, and not let the connection end, when the time was right, he would apply a survival test, proving his theory. It would be a perfect plan if he weren't so cool to the case of being thwarted. Teenagers without any problems would connect quickly, and in development, this would be maintained, but it would be a superficial life, nobody is one hundred percent happy or has a life without conflicts. He needed to create those conflicts too, test friendships, create situations, and see 'bullying', he needed the theory to have real people. This would not work on adults, but it would work on teenagers. He could create conflicts while they were still too young. The plan was taking shape, he was on the right track. The truth was only one, he required them, and he needed to nurture everything until when they were ready, it would take about four years for this, four years of a lot of hard work, but with a high success rate.
That was the base plan, and having the base, the rest he would do something with ease. At that point, he just needed to get down to action. Get the teenagers, and he knew exactly where to do this, and with whom.The schedule grid hung next to the calendar, which was attached to the wall, spoiling the whole concept of a nice office. He had four calendars and grids, two in his house, on the wall and the desk, and the same in his private room at school. Most of the books he had at home were the result of stealth in his school office; the books there were much better and complete, and he couldn't resist, but he was also cautious when he stole. His living room was a cozy size, the colors were neutral, but nothing that showed sadness or any negative feeling. It was a peaceful space, isolated from the noise, away from the courtyard and the court. Winston never left his desk for an appointment, in fact, he quite liked to sit there, the effort was unnecessary, the appointments were just words, and the most effort he could make was to crouch down to open a drawer full of papers, which he was too lazy to throw away. The garbage was far away, and the cleaning lady every time left the garbage by the door, instead of by the desk. This resulted in multiple failed attempts to make a basket, so he would accumulate everything in the drawer anyway, and if it were something more confidential, he would take it away.In his spare time from work, still at school, Connel – as he was called locally, or rather Mr. Connel – would gather in the teachers' lounge for coffee. Everyone knew of his appreciation, so there was always sweet coffee ready for him, it was routine, and he deserved it, his work was very well done; parents, teachers, and even teenagers spoke well of him, at least the ones he solved the problem for. He liked kids, but not enough to have one of his own, that was the most uncomfortable part of the whole plan, dealing with teenagers for four years, locked away. He was going to spend a lot of money, but that was no problem, he had a high amount saved up, inherited from his late sister – she had died in a robbery, saving him, while they were shopping in Detroit. Memories he wanted to forget, and sleeping made him remember the exact moment. Not healthy.The school office smelled of roses, wood, even lavender, anything that was mild. It was random, he was lazy to choose, so the cleaning lady did that, it was interesting that she spent minutes choosing the scent, but didn't spend seconds moving the trash from the door to the desk. She was not old, she was old enough to have a great mind. She was very kind, well treated by everyone, that kind of employee that didn't have to worry about any bad pranks because they never happened, at least not to her.Like any normal person, Winston had teenagers she liked, teenagers she pretended to like, put up with or did everything she could to get the appointment over with as soon as possible, in case she was one of those annoying people that there is no getting ahead of. Consultations with Jeffrey were one of those that had no breakthrough, he rarely spoke, but still, he was no nuisance. He acted like any antisocial teenager, came in, had class, ate alone, had class again, and left again. Fear of the dark, he didn't even talk about. The first time, his mother had to tell him everything, by the third visit, Jeffrey was a stranger, and not for nothing, the day before he had been found in one of the men's room stalls, shrinking and shaking, someone had turned off the light, and since he already suffered from Nichtophobia, he had a crisis. No one could figure out whether it was a prank or someone's accident, but it had a strong impact. He was one of the youngsters that Winston wanted to test.That day, the schedule grid had only one patient, Martin Turner, the same grade as Jeffrey, different class and opposite personality. He was the type to make friends with whomever he wanted, and this was natural, he was a normal child, but the school insisted that he had a problem, trypanophobia - fear of needles. Vaccination was important, campaigns went into the schools, and Martin would make a fuss and embarrass himself in front of everyone, his fear was so great, he didn't even care. It bothered the school. Winston would take any challenge, he liked them, the issues, and being alone in a room smelling of flowers was boring. Drinking coffee alone in the teachers' lounge was boring too. Working as the best thing, he hated sitting still."How are you today, Martin?" Connel asked softly, as the boy still sat down."I'm fine," the boy replied. The psychologist cracked a small smile, satisfied with the answer. "I had oatmeal at recess, it was oatmeal. Do you like oatmeal?" Martin was so
He crossed the last street before finally reaching the school, frustrated that he couldn't think of anything in time. Improvisation, that's what was left for plan C.Winston usually drove fast, and because of the time he arrived at school, he didn't have to pay much attention to this while parking the car, there were never any people, never any cars leaving or entering. That day, something was different, there was a car that shouldn't have been there.With the car parked in the usual spot – penultimate, bottom – he made his way to the principal's office where he found Principal Brooke busy, attending to the possible owner of the intruding car."Ah, Mr. Connel, we've been expecting you," said the director, getting up and signaling to sit down. "This is Chelsea Miller," she pointed to the guest, who smiled and turned to the man."She held out her hand to greet him, and he politely returned it, still confused. "Pleased to meet you," he said and sat down."We've been expecting you, Mr. Co
Winston took much of the food he had taken to the basement kitchen and transferred it to the main kitchen, he was going to give the impression that he was healthy and eating well. Pure lie. There were plenty of rooms in the house, not counting the new ones that remained in the basement. He didn't plan to show the place to Chelsea, and there was no reason, the basement only allows storing what nobody cares about, she wouldn't imagine that in that house there would be a “mini house” ready to receive teenagers that would be kidnapped.He sprayed perfume on himself three times, instead of the usual amount. Not only that, but he was ready for their arrival, luckily for him, visitors like coffee, so he took the time to spray some sweet, just the way he liked it. He filled the house with the scent of lavender and made everything as beautiful as possible. He also transferred a complete set from one of the new bedrooms to the guest room. Luckily, the giant room he had made on the second floor
The biggest difficulty at that moment, would be hiding the basement from the new resident, since the idea of using her as a victim, had failed; that, if of course, she wasn't so "fascinating!" - as he called the teenagers he liked —, and he would know soon enough, evidently he would love to have an exclusive therapy session for her daily, even if she wasn't going to go through the post kidnapping trauma process, or the rest negative than the others, she still could be used in the final project, unlike the others, he had over her, much more control and dominance, that is, she would be victim zero, the most manipulated of all. For a moment, as Winston mentally plotted this plan, while watching her tidy up the room, he wished for a brief second that it would be good to be wrong in his thesis and that, with this, she wouldn't kill anyone, and no one would kill her, total survival. She abandoned that conclusion the next second when she imagined that it would be much more exciting if she ki
About an hour later, the girl, already seated at the table, was enjoying a fried chicken, which, by the way, was well done, well done. The rice was sticky, and the beans lacked salt; she considered complaining but eventually remembered that this would wipe the fake smile – which she didn't know was fake – off his face."It's a… delicious… uncle!" she commented as she chewed and closed her eyes to disguise the bitterness the chicken had. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, noticing that he hadn't put an extra plate on the table."Come on. I know it's shit, I don't usually cook.""You said it was healthy," she reminded him. He hesitated for a few seconds."Yes, which means I eat it, not that I think it's good, there are differences, little girl.""But you said you didn't use to cook, not that it wasn't good," he looked at her seriously, dumb, and beastly she wasn't, they had the same blood anyway, if he considered himself so smart, evidently his niece would be too."Brush your teeth a
After that topic, in which he was now sure she had the phobia, he decided to go deeper into family matters. To his surprise, she was not at all uncomfortable talking about the death of her parents, she was a child who had already fully overcome her grief, and this was somehow frightening; she seemed too sensitive to the surrounding things, to face her in a situation that should make her cry instead of smile, was very curious; either she was a child who was well resolved about death, or else she pretended very well that she was calm. If it were the first option, Winston would have a high chance that would kill everyone in the final test, death didn't shake her, and he, as her current caregiver, could work very well with that.Finally, she went to bed, and he returned to his office. He kept her makeshift chart next to Turner's and Foster's charts. In his notebook, he searched for a few stores in town, stores that stocked large-scale sound mufflers because he would need them, in the base
With Morgan in the car, Winston discovered that not only was she audacious, but she was also greedy. He quickly noticed the receipt for the Starbucks purchase, and like any normal child, he didn't hesitate to order. After several tantrums and punches along the way, accompanied by a fake cry, he eventually took her for a drink there, which took fifteen minutes before she chose a Classic Chocolate. Finally, sometime later, they returned home, although it was still mid-afternoon, Seattle was already exhibiting more mature weather, and along with that, more rain.He decided to install the mufflers while the girl took a bath, the loud noise of the shower would prevent her from hearing any suspicious noise, it was the gap she needed. The installation was a success, everything was now officially prepared, and this included the various cameras, which he had already installed from the beginning, and was ready to finally fulfill their purpose: monitoring.For the first time in his life, Winston
"So, what would you do in the following situation?" the professor showed, pointing to the whiteboard, which displayed several old pen marks made for that purpose. As in every college class, attention was turned sometimes to the board, sometimes to the cell phone. Not that day, at least not for Winston. He had been attending philosophy classes faithfully since his school days, and now he liked the idea of becoming a philosopher. All around him, Winston looked much older, everyone in his 25s, while he was almost 40. He didn't care, in that class, all he wanted was an answer.The whiteboard displayed one of those classic problems that you have to think through until you come up with a personal answer. With attention on the educator, the issue was then shown:"Think of someone you love besides yourself. In a survival situation, in which only one of you two can make it out alive, counting on one killing the other. What would you do?"A - I would kill that person.B - I would let that perso
With Morgan in the car, Winston discovered that not only was she audacious, but she was also greedy. He quickly noticed the receipt for the Starbucks purchase, and like any normal child, he didn't hesitate to order. After several tantrums and punches along the way, accompanied by a fake cry, he eventually took her for a drink there, which took fifteen minutes before she chose a Classic Chocolate. Finally, sometime later, they returned home, although it was still mid-afternoon, Seattle was already exhibiting more mature weather, and along with that, more rain.He decided to install the mufflers while the girl took a bath, the loud noise of the shower would prevent her from hearing any suspicious noise, it was the gap she needed. The installation was a success, everything was now officially prepared, and this included the various cameras, which he had already installed from the beginning, and was ready to finally fulfill their purpose: monitoring.For the first time in his life, Winston
After that topic, in which he was now sure she had the phobia, he decided to go deeper into family matters. To his surprise, she was not at all uncomfortable talking about the death of her parents, she was a child who had already fully overcome her grief, and this was somehow frightening; she seemed too sensitive to the surrounding things, to face her in a situation that should make her cry instead of smile, was very curious; either she was a child who was well resolved about death, or else she pretended very well that she was calm. If it were the first option, Winston would have a high chance that would kill everyone in the final test, death didn't shake her, and he, as her current caregiver, could work very well with that.Finally, she went to bed, and he returned to his office. He kept her makeshift chart next to Turner's and Foster's charts. In his notebook, he searched for a few stores in town, stores that stocked large-scale sound mufflers because he would need them, in the base
About an hour later, the girl, already seated at the table, was enjoying a fried chicken, which, by the way, was well done, well done. The rice was sticky, and the beans lacked salt; she considered complaining but eventually remembered that this would wipe the fake smile – which she didn't know was fake – off his face."It's a… delicious… uncle!" she commented as she chewed and closed her eyes to disguise the bitterness the chicken had. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, noticing that he hadn't put an extra plate on the table."Come on. I know it's shit, I don't usually cook.""You said it was healthy," she reminded him. He hesitated for a few seconds."Yes, which means I eat it, not that I think it's good, there are differences, little girl.""But you said you didn't use to cook, not that it wasn't good," he looked at her seriously, dumb, and beastly she wasn't, they had the same blood anyway, if he considered himself so smart, evidently his niece would be too."Brush your teeth a
The biggest difficulty at that moment, would be hiding the basement from the new resident, since the idea of using her as a victim, had failed; that, if of course, she wasn't so "fascinating!" - as he called the teenagers he liked —, and he would know soon enough, evidently he would love to have an exclusive therapy session for her daily, even if she wasn't going to go through the post kidnapping trauma process, or the rest negative than the others, she still could be used in the final project, unlike the others, he had over her, much more control and dominance, that is, she would be victim zero, the most manipulated of all. For a moment, as Winston mentally plotted this plan, while watching her tidy up the room, he wished for a brief second that it would be good to be wrong in his thesis and that, with this, she wouldn't kill anyone, and no one would kill her, total survival. She abandoned that conclusion the next second when she imagined that it would be much more exciting if she ki
Winston took much of the food he had taken to the basement kitchen and transferred it to the main kitchen, he was going to give the impression that he was healthy and eating well. Pure lie. There were plenty of rooms in the house, not counting the new ones that remained in the basement. He didn't plan to show the place to Chelsea, and there was no reason, the basement only allows storing what nobody cares about, she wouldn't imagine that in that house there would be a “mini house” ready to receive teenagers that would be kidnapped.He sprayed perfume on himself three times, instead of the usual amount. Not only that, but he was ready for their arrival, luckily for him, visitors like coffee, so he took the time to spray some sweet, just the way he liked it. He filled the house with the scent of lavender and made everything as beautiful as possible. He also transferred a complete set from one of the new bedrooms to the guest room. Luckily, the giant room he had made on the second floor
He crossed the last street before finally reaching the school, frustrated that he couldn't think of anything in time. Improvisation, that's what was left for plan C.Winston usually drove fast, and because of the time he arrived at school, he didn't have to pay much attention to this while parking the car, there were never any people, never any cars leaving or entering. That day, something was different, there was a car that shouldn't have been there.With the car parked in the usual spot – penultimate, bottom – he made his way to the principal's office where he found Principal Brooke busy, attending to the possible owner of the intruding car."Ah, Mr. Connel, we've been expecting you," said the director, getting up and signaling to sit down. "This is Chelsea Miller," she pointed to the guest, who smiled and turned to the man."She held out her hand to greet him, and he politely returned it, still confused. "Pleased to meet you," he said and sat down."We've been expecting you, Mr. Co
That day, the schedule grid had only one patient, Martin Turner, the same grade as Jeffrey, different class and opposite personality. He was the type to make friends with whomever he wanted, and this was natural, he was a normal child, but the school insisted that he had a problem, trypanophobia - fear of needles. Vaccination was important, campaigns went into the schools, and Martin would make a fuss and embarrass himself in front of everyone, his fear was so great, he didn't even care. It bothered the school. Winston would take any challenge, he liked them, the issues, and being alone in a room smelling of flowers was boring. Drinking coffee alone in the teachers' lounge was boring too. Working as the best thing, he hated sitting still."How are you today, Martin?" Connel asked softly, as the boy still sat down."I'm fine," the boy replied. The psychologist cracked a small smile, satisfied with the answer. "I had oatmeal at recess, it was oatmeal. Do you like oatmeal?" Martin was so
Being around teenagers all the time, he knew that they were well influenced when they were young. He noticed this in them, as young as seven years old. At seven, children start to learn, they already know how to read and write, and soon after would come math, but not only this, at this age they start to understand things around them, even if sometimes in the wrong way. A child can be influenced to be close to another child, most friendships start very early because pre-teens have no concrete beliefs, no formed personality of their own, they have no values to follow, and they just live for others. Winston knew this better than anyone. If he put one child in an environment with another, they would understand each other, and if their friendship were nurtured, the bond would strengthen, strong enough that neither side would want it broken. For the theory to work, the people would need to have a strong bond, but if he couldn't find them, he could then create them. That was the plan, he had
Theories were made to be tested and to conclude what one initially thinks about an idea. Whether it is about an open issue in a movie or a conspiracy, the truth is that everyone expects concrete answers about any assumption; while some go searching for the truth, others prefer to sit in a hammock, enjoying the shade, while the opposite side brings the conclusion to the surface. The question is: who are you in this situation?After the debate in class, months before he finally graduated, Winston Connel already had in mind what he wanted to do from then on. He was already working as a psychologist in a school. The truth is that while in college, he ended up arranging an internship, which was so successful that he was hired immediately, without a degree. He liked the work, he liked helping teenagers and their problems. Young people, human beings with no idea of real issues, at least most of them.When he finished philosophy school and had the basis of the plan ready, Winston knew he need