The story I am about to tell you

is only a story, but like any creative fiction, there is truth, mixed with lies.

I was a stranger to myself

So, I went to my adviser for help

“What do you want to do?” He asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What are you good at?”

“I can write.”

“What are you interested in?”

“People.”

“There you have it. Write about people.”

But when I tried, it wasn’t easy.

I thought about doing what he was doing.

I could get a cozy office in the education building

and ask students three questions

but when I visited, the second time

he jumped

splattering on the sidewalk

A suicide?

I told a professor

and when we got back

the body was missing

only a crucifix remained

I followed his advice, like gospel

wearing the sacred cross

while writing about people

and I stay away

from third floor windows

Two teachers told me, my advisor wasn’t real

I had discovered

and murdered

the stranger

inside

me.