Cursed

Prolouge

There isn't a day that I don't think of them. I look back every day. Every day for the past two years, I've looked back and remembered.

It almost feels like an obligation, something that I must do, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

They sacrificed themselves so that I could live, and there are no words to describe the gratitude I feel - the gratitude I'll always feel.

No one will miss you.

He was wrong. So wrong. I'll always miss them, always remember them. That's the least I can do after what they did for me - honour their memory. I owe it to them.

Well, to be fair, I owe them so much more than just thinking of them once or twice a day. I owe them my life, both past and future. My freedom- everything I have is thanks to them.

I just wish there was a way to turn back time, to undo what was done. All of us should've made it out alive that night. Only I did.

Looking back, I still can't believe that I just left like that. I'm a coward. There, I said it. I'm a coward, the monster everyone always thought me to be. It's not fair. It should have been me to make the sacrifice that night, not them. I should've died, not them.

Yet here I am, free. Here I am, with a new life, new dreams, new memories.

I wish I could say I deserve this, but the truth is, I don't deserve any of it. That's the thing about life, it isn't fair. It never will be.

During the first weeks, I tried to make right for what I'd done. I searched day and night for the Government, for him and for anyone who ever stepped foot in that building. I found no one. It was as if the Government had ceased to exist - as if it'd never existed.

I just assumed it had vanished with the building, literally gone up in smoke, been devoured in the fire.

So I ended my search, found peace in knowing the Government was gone for good, unable to hurt anyone else. And I started a new life, different from the life I had before.

The guilt for leaving consumed me. I tried to make up for it, I still do, though I'm convinced I'll end up in hell no matter the deeds I perform. They won't change my fate, but they help me deal with the pain. Somewhat.

They help me move on. I'm no saint, but I can try to become a better person, and maybe then I'll feel a little better about myself. Maybe then I'll feel lucky to be alive - think I deserve to be. All I do now is try to convince myself I do.

I owe it to them, to live my life to the fullest. What can I say, otherwise all they did was die in vain.