Diagnosis? Manic.
Introduced into the Wild -
When deciding what times are appropriate to be completely honest, the few moments spent watching your own blood drain out probably takes the cake. I should probably dictate faster, but I’m miles from death - you can’t die twice - I died a long time ago, I just refused to acknowledge my own damnation. A walking corpse for years on end...you learn to adapt. Survival of the fittest.
The hand that writes this isn’t my own - instead, the hand of a tormenter etches my words in stone for all eternity. Ironic but relevant. Everyone pays the piper eventually, and if you don’t, he’ll come to collect. Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
We’re all sinners here. Another name on the line.
It’s been an eternity since my last confession.
Or maybe, only a lifetime.
Let’s go back to the beginning; there’s plenty of time for the end.
So how’d I come so far? Effort.
How’d I survive? Talent.
Why? Necessity.
How did I learn my methods? Time.
Why am I more corrupt than I seem? Experience.
Where did I apply this knowledge? My mind.
When did morality lose its’ significance? Yesterday.
What have I lost for my indifference? Everything.
Who laid claim to my consequence? Myself.
My name is Toryn Ransom.
Mom and Dad were caring, I guess. Or maybe it was me who didn’t care.
There are others. Urban and Baroque, little brother and sister. My family half a world away that I barely know. A distinct connection to another time, another place.
Cough up more blood - back to now. Pain keeps the now here, wringing awareness.
Childhood is a really bizarre experience. You’d think that you’d remember most of it, enjoy it better. We spend our childhood wanting to grow up; adulthood is spent longing for lost youth. The Ransom family is infamous for its’ dysfunction, our reputation proceeds us. Just as the Merrick family is known as a group of lunatics, mine is considered a direct off-shoot of them. Our parents were high in the ranks once upon a time, I think, but the math might not add up, I’d have to do more research. I don’t have to look into it, but I’ve got too much to lose to be uncertain.
We’re all mad here.
YOU ARE READING
Volume V: The Tragic End of Treason
Teen FictionThey say that nothing truly changes, and the retired hoodlums of the block set out to prove it. Dean Crowe left behind his life of danger and deceit hoping to get by just like everybody else – until a broken young girl falls into his lap. Finding hi...
