I looked out the door and saw the pocket knife still sitting on the nightstand. I still can't believe he gave it to me so soon. Can't say I'm not glad, though. It was a gift from my father. He gave it to me on my twelfth birthday and, according to him, he got it as a present for his fourteenth birthday from his mom. While he used it to look cool at school, I just left it in my pocket in case I ever needed it to defend myself.