“What is this?” I ask in awe and utter disbelief.

The feeling of being betrayed, being lied to your face, makes me want to puke all my guts out. For years, I had wanted to visit this building, where Kate works at, but she always said no to me.

This small room with walls painted in white, plain yet clean and simple, nothing but a table with a few chairs. I wondered who had sat on that chair, serial killer or most wanted? What questions were asked. I was so naïve to think all these were just prearranged show for me, a couple of simulated questions just for fun, to get things interesting, so pupils would be interested in joining when they grow up, but I was so wrong.

Until she placed that black box on table, the moment I realized that he, the man identified himself as a Homeland Security agent, wasn’t scribbling down some doodles, he was actually writing down my pretended answers, which I just played along. The camcorder on the tripod standing at corner, has been focusing on me and recording everything I’ve said and done.

Is that her face when she interviews someone? How could she act so emotionless towards me as if I was a stranger? How could she bring me in with a lie, a deliberate pretext? A tour, I just couldn’t see through it when I walked into the building, the faces around us, they clearly noticed me, blatantly staring at me. I should have known, but I just didn’t want to believe.

For God’s sake I am her brother, little brother, who she has helped raising, babysitting, bathing, reading bedtime stories, even changed a few stinky diapers. How could she be like this?

Denying the knowing of this black box since she already lied to me, let’s just get even. I don’t care if I am lying to federal agents, it just doesn’t matter to me anymore. For all I can still care is how she can be like a switch, flipping as if nothing special, from on to off. I want to understand her reasoning behind this.

For some time, it’s been hidden in the back of bottom drawer of my desk. She must have tossed my room, because you need to remove the drawer from desk in order to reach the box. It is sitting right in front of me, a circle of three dots on top, unless there is second box, this has to be one in my desk. Even she does snoop my room, how could she know this thing? What could be the reason? Does she know?

I’m still trying to maintain a teenager joking, careless image, even my heart has been broken. She opens the box and there is that very same silver ring.

“It is made of elements not on our periodic table, what is this for?” she asks after my constant denials, specifically stressed on the word ‘our.’

Now that may makes some sense to me. Some sort of alien technology, of course, that explains what happened in and after the alley. How it could slide through my wrist and what I had experienced with it after. It was unbelieving, but I know I can not tell a soul, even my own sister. By what she is doing to me, I don’t see much problems to deny any knowledges about that bracelet.

“Where was you that morning?” she asks in anger, now showing some emotion finally; with the tone, accusing me lying about my whereabout that morning.

My jokes apparently didn’t cast their magic spells, when she placed a few surveillance photos on the table. That’s me and the woman standing by Josh’s, the John Doe’s, grave. One of the photos was she handing me the box.

I know it’s lame, but I have to bring up that cliché line, “I won’t say another word without a lawyer.”

She stares at me, then she breaks down into tears, covering her mouth.

“You didn’t ask for mom and dad, oh god, you are only sixteen, how could this happen? What is going on?” she asks herself.

‘Oh crap, should have ask for our mom,’ I thought, I just sort of confessed to her about involvement of something I am not aware of completely.

However, it’s not the time to think about anything, because things are starting to get complicated from this point on when gunshots coming from distances. Soon, the building is under lockdown, we were told to stay inside this room until further notice.

“It’s time,” the agent says.

All this time, he didn’t say a word after identifying himself, now he suddenly said something, but neither me or Kate understand. He reaches for the box and takes out the bracelet.

“You two have to go, now,” he throws that bracelet at me, then goes to take the memory card from the camcorder.

“Agent Gates, what are you doing?” Kate is not sure.

I am not sure what’s going on, either. But I can be sure that this agent or whoever he really is, he must have known what this bracelet can do, probably someone from those people I met that night.

“You took too long, things have got worse, and your sister’s investigation made it even worse. Those people are coming for you, to eliminate you. My order is to make sure you come in with your sister, we need her to fix,” he explains while destroying the memory card.

“Keith, what the heck is going on? Who is coming to kill you?” she is in panic.

I am asking myself the same question. I honestly have no clues beside a little about this bracelet in my hand.

“Go, now!” he yells as the gunfires getting louder and closer, then bullets start to shoot through the door.

Whether I like it or not, there is only one way to get out of this mess by using it. I put it on, just as Josh did, it clipped on, but it still displays same time, I hope it’s not malfunctioning, I can’t imagine what would happen if it’s broken. Anyhow, I notice it’s more than just the time, but there is also three dots on bottom, when it shrinks into my wrist.

“What the devil?” Kate gasps as seeing the bracelet passing through my wrist, and everything after. The indentations, and the merging into my wrist.

I am holding Kate — who is still trying to see if she has gone crazy — in my arms, as Agent Gates instructs, I am still not entirely sure how to use it, when the dots start to count down, which I missed seeing first time. Three dots, two dots, one dot, then all gone and the air around us begins to distort.

A second before, we were standing in that room by the wall, next second, we are standing on a round platform, about ten feet in diameter, with a circle painted on the edge, three dots drawn on the circle.

Kate is in shock, they say ‘seeing is believing,’ I doubt that includes this. Her mouth can’t even close, there are people standing around the platform, staring at us as Kate staring blankly at them.

“Welcome back, Prime Inserter!” one in uniform greets us.