All along the way home and even up to his room Jon felt that there was something wrong, as though he wasn't himself. He couldn't quite place exactly what was going on. He felt almost as if there was something influencing him.
When he got home he went straight to his room. He was alone in his house and no one else would be home for a while. Jon still had the feeling that something was guiding some of the things he did. As though he was being compelled to do things every once and a while, as though from time to time thoughts were being put in his head. As Jon thought about it he realized what a frightening idea it was. Few people would be frightened more than with the idea of being controlled. Suddenly Jon had a though that seemed to be his own.
Pulling the rock from its box "I wish I knew why I felt like I was being controlled."
Suddenly Jon was hit with the information he wanted. It was such a shock he couldn't help but say aloud in a hushed voice "oh my god."
"I wish that the author who was writing my story was in here with me." Jon quickly said.
