I can’t forget. The events of the past year are as imprinted into my brain as the scars on my skin. Although I know it’s somewhat my fault, I can’t shake the feeling that everything I’m about to tell you happened for a reason. Like there was a higher power, stronger, faster, smarter than even I. I see what’s going to happen before it happens, after it happens, and when it happens. They don’t know the pain. The suffering. What it’s like to witness the innocent be murdered, to feel what they feel as their last seconds of life are ripped away from them. Their screams cut a scar deep in my flesh as a memory. And boy do I remember them. There was something wrong at that time. The world was out of balance. I watched as humans fell to the temptations of murder, corrupt and overcome with the bad that consumed them. Humanity was digging it’s way to it’s own extinction. If the humans died, I did too. I was not ready to die. It wasn’t my time. That’s where the girls came in.