It's life that does it to you. Destroys the sense of wonder and carefree living that comes with youth. Through all the times people are told to grow up and start acting your age. Through life lessons which shows you that sometimes the bad guys win. No actually, most times it is the bad guy who wins by getting the promotion, the raise, the rewards. All the while stepping on the backs of those who were really working for it. The sheer realization that life isn't fair. That no matter how much you wanted to be a model or actor or basketball player you are too short, too fat, too ugly, but mostly you didn't know the right people. And knowing there isn't anything you can possibly do about it. It's then you realize all of the lies you were told over your life. All the broken promises that have grated away the soul that kept you young. And you start to feel the weight of adult life. The responsibilities which pile on top of each other squeezing your free time into a faded memory. Stress replaces calm. Happiness replaced with anger and frowns. Play time replaced with work. And the games you played as a child you watch your own children play with a sense of not wonder and carefree bliss but with worry and irritation at the noise, the mess, the chaos. There isn't enough time in the day to do the chores. Piling clutter polluting the little enjoyment you used to have when you were home. The smell of cookies are no longer welcoming of smiles but the knowledge you need to get to the kitchen before they burn. This life, full of so many thing has weighed us down. But today I think I will change. Today,

How did it come to this? Life hadn't always been this way. We use to run it circles screaming, "You're it! You're it!"

"I tagged you that time! I did!"

"Nu uh!"

"Yeah huh"

Back and forth. Full of happiness and life.

Where did it go?

Did we fall one too many times and realize that there isn't always someone there to catch us? That there isn't always someone there to kiss our scraped knees and tell us that everything will be okay.

Did we scream of laughter too many times and now, because of that, it's harder to make ourselves that happy?

Or is it because we used up all of our wishing stars, using them on dreams and wishes that seem so small and pointless now, that our wishes have expired or have been withdrawn because of our excessive use of them when we were little and now, when we wish for things that matter to us today, it doesn't seem to ever come true?

There could be numerous reasons and possibilities to the fact that we can no longer love like we did back then. No longer laugh or play.

Some say it's just what comes with age. I guess it's a possibility, as is everything else. But I can't help but feel that it's something more than that. Something more complex or puzzling.

The perfect puzzle to the perfect mystery. After as many years as we've roamed this earth, there hasn't been any clear evidence to what the answer could be, not one.

Sure we have ideas, conclusions about the secret. The secret to why we seem to loose the light in our eyes or the skip in our step. There's something that changes how we look at things and life itself.

Then it hits me...

He was leaning nonchalantly against the bus stop pretending to flick his finger across his iPad as if reading a book or page of a website. Nobody took any notice of him. He watched him as he walked out of the office block. He'd been watching him for two weeks. Each victim was targeted carefully and this guy was no different. He watched the guy turn into the street and down the side alley to his car park.

He flipped the cover onto his iPad and sauntered casually but swiftly across the street. He had parked his car just past the entrance to the car park. He had time to get in and start the engine before Mr Rosendale had reached his car.

Mr Rosendale was an SVP at a typically cliched advertising agency. He was married to Susan, his loving wife and they had two beautiful teenage children. There was no doubt Mr Rosendale had the perfect life. A high flying executive job and a wonderful family. So why did he want to risk all that?

He sat in his car, the engine on tick over as he watched Mr Rosedale get into his Mercedes Benz.

"Are you a gambling man, Mr R?" He said out loud as he watched the Mercedes ease forward as Mr Rosendale drove out of his space towards the exit.

He had watched Mr R do this each week day night. He walked out of his office, into his car and drove the 23.6 miles home to his wife and two children. Only on Wednesday and Thursday did his routine change. Wednesday and Thursday were his "Special" evenings. Evening's his beautiful wife knew nothing about. She thought he was out with clients.

Well that is until now. This was going to be Mr Rosendale's last ever Tuesday.