Embers and ashes, that is my life.

My mother died giving birth to me… I being born a monster. Ever since that day, I've been an outcast, hated by everyone who knew me:

"Oh no it's him! Run!"

Needless to say, I didn't grow up to be the kindest person. All through my cursed childhood I was alone, hated, cursed. When I tried to help other people or show an act of kindness, I was shunned – always labelled as "that boy", the monster. I knew no kindness or love, had no one to care for me, lived all by myself… except for one person – my uncle. Always I thought of him as my guardian, the only person who cared for me and loved me. Until that dreadful day:

He tried to kill me, he was ordered to do so, and I wanted desperately to believe he had no choice… but cruelly he corrected me. "I've always hated you, for you killed my dearest sister – your mother," was his heartbreaking words which burned the last piece of my little heart to ashes.

Embers and ashes, that is my heart.

Lost was all the love I had

Lost was all the kindness

Lost was all the dreams I had

Lost was I in darkness

The pain enfolded me in its embrace where I searched ceaselessly for my purpose in life, but I could find none… when suddenly – days, months, years later – I realized that my purpose was to kill others…

Embers and ashes, that is the trail left in my wake.

For days, months, years, my pain continued, and by killing people I reminded myself that I am alive.

Killing, murder, embers, ashes – that defined who I was… Then I met him, the other boy who suffered the same cursed childhood as I, but had grown up kind and caring. He taught me how to live, how love and friendship, not hatred, makes you stronger. He brought me back to the light, he, my first real friend, the one who understands my pain.

Embers and ashes, that is my past.