In which different people share similar tragedies.
"They've all got a story. And they all end in the mourning an old life. Torn between madness and sadness."
Wish °°°°°°° Everyone has secret wishes or inner desires. And sometimes if you're lucky they come true and everything is perfect.
Or they can go horribly wrong. As a child I had many dreams. I wanted to be rich and famous and give my mother the life she deserved.
That is not what I got. What I got was everything I didn't want. Having yourself as your own literal worse enemy isn't what I would call the perfect life.
Having no self control is not what I wished for.
Hurting people is not what I dreamed of.
BurnedSouls °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
People like me aren't made in a day. It takes time, patience and bad experiences to make something like me possible. A heartless criminal. Someone so messed up that any emotion that is left is hidden behind layers of steel walls. And they only do what they think they have to do even it hurts someone else along the way. A tortured soul. An essence so beaten and worn down by evil and all that is bad that it barely glows. A soul so traumatized by their experiences they can hardly feel. You'd think it'd take a lot to make someone turn bad. But I'll have you know you are wrong. For some it only takes one thing going wrong to send it all crashing down. Their life, their future, their hope and everything else is completely destroyed and any bottled up emotions break through like a shaken up bottle of champagne. A lot of this can turn you into me. A shell of a former person. A person who could feel. A person who could love and had dreams. Now I am only a hollow wooden puppet lookalike who is controlled by her, Wildfire. The one who burned my soul.
TheUntoldStory °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
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Many people have seen me and they know me. They know the me they see on the street torturing the innocent and the me they hear about on the news plotting my next devious scheme. But they do not know how I came to be. You'd think this nosy generation would love a good origin story. Of how I became who I am. What drives me to do what I do? I'll tell you. °°°°
As you've probably already guessed, I lived a pretty crap life. When I was young I had a very tiny family, just my mom and I. We were what you'd call really poor. My mother worked her ass off as a waitress to pay for the small apartment that we did call home. I usually stole and picked any pocket I could to try and bring in something. Something that would please my mother since she rarely seemed to be happy. Every time I brought something valuable home for her to pawn she would smile and tell me being a thief was bad and I knew I did good. She'd tell me that moneyiswhatmakestheworldgo 'roundandifwehadanywe'druletheworldtogetherwhenever I asked why we needed money. I remember telling her, her gray eyes twinkled like stars to make her feel better whenever she came home with that dull look and big bags for eyelids. I'll never forget the way her raven curls bounced when she had good news to tell. Or the way she squinted a little when she smiled too hard. I knew she would've done anything for me and I did the same for her.
