 I'm on the corner of Johnston Avenue, sitting on the bench that ended up twisted into a weird shape when that drunk driver crashed here last year. I'm skinny, late 30s wearing a sweatshirt, jean sneakers. There's nothing distinctive about me. But if you live around here, you will know the bench. It's kind of a local landmark, so if you're free, head this way. Come and say hello. I'll tell you about myself. I work in marketing in a large, mildly faceless corporation, not very successfully, I admit. I started out enthusiastic, a team player with big dreams, but I'm starting to get used to watching people 10 years younger than me with much less experience being promoted above me. This is not the reason my neck hurts so much. That stress, pure and simple. I was married, which still shocks my inner shy teenager who was convinced they would die having always been alone. I still love my ex-wife and often try and fail to not get my hopes up that we'll get back together. Her name is Naomi, she's a nurse. My name is David. You'd like me if you met me, I think. Although all I've done so far is tell you about myself, I'm also a good listener. This bench is not the most comfortable, not a bench you'd want to bring a date to to watch the sunset. But there's room for two, maybe bring a cushion. You see, I'm looking for a friend. I know that being regarded as needy makes someone less likely to make friends, but the long game is out of the question here. Joining a club, doing voluntary work, starting going to the gym, doing something about my wardrobe, teeth, hair, all great ideas, no criticism of how they can lead to new acquaintances. However, I need to go straight for the be my friend jugular. The clock is ticking. I know how melodramatic that sounds, truth to tell, I'm in a very bad situation. Please don't click off the video because of that, and if you're tying up your laces trying to decide which coat to wear before you head out the door to say hello to the man sitting on the twisted bench, then please don't change your mind. Just give me a chance to explain. Today I'm going to do something which will change my life forever. It's not something that ordinary people do, that you wake up in the morning with a flash of inspiration about or add to the to do list. I need to take a moment here. Sweat is trickling down the back of my neck and into my t-shirt. I've just swallowed back down bile. But being afraid is just going to have to wait. If I leave this place, then you won't know where to find me. I'll just be a face in the crowd, heading to where I have to be. I'm sorry, I'm not doing very well here. I'm more likely to be creating a no zone around me and the bench. Hashtag avoid this weirdo will be trending soon. I am strange. I am different. That's something I've kept to myself my entire life. Even Naomi doesn't know. I don't think the fact that there was deceit by me and our marriage was the reason we split up. I say I don't know, I know. Naomi told me that she needed to be with someone who still had a spirit of adventure, who had more of a spark. That hurt. Still does. I don't have anyone to talk to about what I'm feeling right now, beyond the audience out there swaddled up in their user names. Maybe there's a hundred people listening to this, maybe a dozen. I could be reaching out to no one. Knowing my luck, it's probably the last. I have a decision to make in the next few minutes now because I can see the sky reddening soon to slip and tonight. And when it goes dark, that's when it happens. And I could really do with talking to someone to help me decide. Do I keep my secret, no matter the consequences? Dusk today is 6 p.m. That's the time. Mark Allison, a 42 year old lawyer, will leave his office. A gleaming multi-story affair that stands opposite the twisted bench and catch a taxi to the airport. I don't actually know where he's flying or why I wasn't given that information. I guess it's not pertinent because I am under instruction to ensure he does not get in the taxi. This would be easy for me. There'd be no scene, no fuss. Just strangers passing under the cover of darkness and then dust. I reckon it would take two dozen steps to reach him. And there's the taxi pulling up a few minutes early. So what do I do? This morning, the man who came to my apartment seemed very sure. I opened the door to a stranger who told me they knew what I was. This was done in a very matter of fact way. Then they told me they would reveal my secret to the world unless I did exactly what they said. Allison at nightfall, dust. I was too shocked to even begin to deny. I wanted to ask how they found out to protest, to ask why they hated this lawyer so much, to do something, anything apart from what I'm about to do. After I've finished here, I have a backpacked. I've withdrawn as much money as I could. I'm going to try and flee to some place where the stranger can't find me again. And I can try and build a new life with an old secret at its heart. How can I live with myself, though? After what I'm about to do, I don't know. It's been a long time now since I promised that I'd never hurt anyone again. That I would hold my secret deep inside. The shadows have fallen into the darkness of a new night now. And all I'm waiting for is that moment. When the time comes, I won't have to delve deep to remember how. It's as instinctive as smiling or crying out in fear. I will brush my fingers against Allison and he will collapse into lifeless fragments. It's a still night, but the first breeze, the first raindrops will soon carry away what remains of him. I can do this. There he is. And here I am, still alone on that twisted bench. And I have decided relief is flooding my body. I'm not going to do this. I'm not going to kill him. I don't have a name. I'm the thing that has existed for longer than anything that walks upon this earth should. I was a monster and still could be only not tonight. Tonight I'm taking off the mask and saying this is who I am and what I am. I am revealing myself and my secret. I'm freeing myself. Stranger, whoever you are, you've lost your hold on me. Allison is smiling as he nods to the taxi driver and now the car is pulling away. Wherever he's going and why that part of his life will happen now. I'm happy for him. For myself, even though the adrenaline is still pounding through my body, I know there will be consequences. I can never go back to pretending. I pick up my bag, begin to walk. It's a beautiful night. If anyone is still listening to me, look up, go to the window. There are endless possibilities out there.