The Same Coin

Prolouge

Red, all I see is red. Nothing else, just red. I hear screams, feel pain, smell death, taste hatred, and see red. That's it just screams, pain, death, hatred, and red.
I have this dream every night sense I was young. Every time it becomes more and more vivid. It feels as though I'm there now. When I wake it feels like the dream is reality, or will be. I was told to just ignore them, but I have a feeling that something is going to happen, something about that dream seems so real. It is as if I must witness what is to come.
Mother is dead, father gone, stepfather insane, and I am alone. No one is there, no ones ever there. I am alone in the darkness, in the shadows.
My name, lost. My purpose, unknown. My reason, absent. My life, meaningless. My friend, unreal. My family, missing. Me, alone.
Hope is for the weak. Power is for the hopeless. Hope I have not, power I retain. My power is my weakness, my weakness is my hope, my hope is my power. This is my contradiction. This is my pain. This is my life and death.