I Put my fingers up against the clear glass, blending into the crisp autumn sky. I am but a child trapped in one house, and there are hundreds of houses surrounding me. Each house must have at least two people, or maybe they have brothers or sisters and children and lovers. Does anybody else think about this like I do? Do they all feel so small and weak compared to all these other people with guns and knives and ***** minds? I suppose I am one. I am just one small being, are you?