Well, let's see. I am... well i'm rather strange really. I was born into a family of average people in an average town in an average county of average old England.
You could say i'm average; in some ways you would be right, but not entirely. From an early age my parents noted my melancholy moods and preference for solitude. 'Loner' would be the wrong word to use, but it's close. I was moderatley popular and enjoyed my school years, both primary and secondary. So far so good, but the problem was, you see, that I always felt there was something lacking in me. Something basic; natural you could say. Emotion was a phenomenon that past me by. Births, marriages, deaths, the three great milestones in life, all left me unaffected.
You might think this worried me, it didn't. I relished it. To look into a 'loved' ones eyes and give them nothing, love, empathy, hate, when they need it most is strangely liberating.
A blank canvas can only hold so much paint before it begins to sag; that is what happens to people you know, as they age. A life can be turned into a masterpiece by the loving brush strokes of the people around you, they leave there mark on you for good or ill. It can also be turned into a mess, a hideous coagulation of grey shade after grey. This will never happen to me. Your paint will slide off me, yellow or black, red or blue, you will not leave your mark on my canvas.
My name is William Stone and I am a sociopath.