We're all spectators in a world gone mad. We watch the injustice unfold, as if like the silent audience to a tragic play. The third time, the villagers didn't come to help. But that's only in the story. Fiction, lies, false images are still stuck in our minds. And thus every time, we end up believing the boy who cried, "Wolf! Wolf!" We know the script, the characters, even the ending, yet we remain glued to our seats. And sometimes we might want to get up from our seats. Just sometimes... yet the full-stop comes with just wanting to. Not to actually to. Fear, indifference, or simply the illusion of helplessness binds us.