I believe that I'm actually a partial zombie or something.
I should be dead when I was 5 at my late granpa's house due to a freak accident.
I think I saw grandpa resurrecting me by merging my soul with someone else's. My badly sewn scar across the body and left arm still hurts like shit, man.
Best of all, my mom and dad ain't believing me.
And no, it ain't a repressed memory of sexual asssult or something. I've got his grimoire in my possesion, and it still ain't following my order.

And thats why you shouldn't play with a chainsaw, boys and girls.