Prologue

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My name is Rogan, at least until I have to leave again, then it will be Scott or perhaps Mark. I am as "troubled" as they come according to anyone who meets me. My age is 17 but in reality I think I'm much older, I stopped counting after age 12. I turn the music up louder to drown out the memories but all it does is increase them. I change my name, hair color, body build, and location to escape it but somehow history repeats itself and I find myself running like a child would run from a monster. The only difference is my monster is real. I was told that writing helps soothe the mind and calm the tortured soul. So here I am sitting in a cramped run down apartment with nothing but roaches, flies, and rats for company as I pen down my story. It is not a nice one but here goes nothing...

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