This book is a blade sharpened and drawn. Held firmly while pointing towards reality, ready to swing. A mental rant.

You were lucky. At least that's what everyone else said. Lucky you didn't die at your psycho father's hand. Lucky the rain of terror ended after his arrest. Lucky you escaped to Riverdale. Lucky you met him.

Someone once said that, quiet people have the loudest minds. Someone was right. That someone was probably a quiet person himself. When a quiet person is silent, that silence is often very noisy but noisy was something that only they themselves, can hear. So what is this ? Well. This is simply, my noisy silence.