I can remember it all. The night it happened. Who was killed.
They told me...I was like them, but is it true? Am I like them? Insane, sarcastic, or cannabilistic?
Everyday that I spend with them though, I feel myself slipping away. But I have to hold on...For Marshall. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
Is it possible...That I'm becoming a moster to?
Honestly, I hope I am.
