The once brightly lit sun has started to go down, I look out the window and ponder about what I am going to do. I lean back into my chair and look up at the ceiling. The paint slowly peeling away day by day. Living in poverty is something I wish no one had to go through, it is an disgusting thing to experience and just plain awful. Tapping my foot on the wooden, oak floor and nervously biting the end of my black ballpoint pen I start to break out into a sweat. Think Kratos think. All the horrific thoughts about what could happen to me if I do not figure something out in time start rushing to my mind. I look at the clock on my watch. "Damn..it's already seven o' clock", I whisper to myself.

          I sigh and slowly get up out of my chair. The floor creaking with every sudden movement I tend to make. I walk to the kitchen, which is only a few feet from where I was once sitting. I grab a white glass mug from the cupboards and pour myself some black coffee. Adding a little sugar, creamer, and stirring it. Taking a sip, it warms me up inside and helps to relieve some of the tension I have. This life of mine, I wonder how it came to be. Struggling to pay the bills, needing my family to help me out. In all honesty, I feel ashamed of what I have become. How this life of mine has become.

          I start to go into a state of panic once more, pacing around in a circle. "Why can oi not just have one moment of ease!" Suddenly, broken pieces of glass are on the floor and the liquid of coffee stains the flooring. I take a deep breath and sigh once more. "Mate..ya really need to control yourself more". I say to myself, defeated. One by one, I carefully pick up the pieces of glass and throw them into the trash bin. I go into my closet and pick up the mop. I wet the mop underneath the sink and clean up the coffee. Thankfully, there was not too much clean up. I put the mop away and sit against the wall, losing hope at an alarming rate.

         Tears start to fill my eyes and I grip my hair tightly. Why can I not just be normal? So many thoughts of hatred going through my body. I feel like such a failure to the people around me, my family, and, especially myself. I do not want to be like this, I want to change. As the tears continue to roll down my face, I look up at the picture of my family. My two amazing sisters, my caring mom, my awesome brother, and...oh. My dad. The man who hurt not just us but he was hurting inside as well.

         I reach up onto my desk and grab the framed picture. My family, the people in my life who cared for me ever since I was a baby. They are the only ones who make me feel sane and actually normal. I hug the picture tight and take a deep breath. I get up and put the picture back in its rightful place. Looking down at my shirt I notice coffee stains mixed with tears. "Bloody hell, oi look like a mess right now". My eyes go towards the bathroom and I walk towards the door. "Alright mate, shower time". Sighing, as I whisper to myself. 

         It's a brand new day. After the situation that happened yesterday, It was a little bit tricky to fall asleep. The shower felt amazing but it still was difficult due to the thoughts about how I am gonna survive running through my head. I got up from my bed and decided what to wear. I put on my Bon Jovi t-shirt, black jeans, and my leather jacket. I looked towards my desk and noticed the papers I left there the night before. I went over and sat down on the chair. I grabbed my pen and looked over the scattered mess. Bills...bills..ideas of how to survive and..more bills.

          I noticed the guitar hanging on my wall and saw that one of the strings was broken. Taking a closer examination, I noticed it was a bit dirty as well. "Crikey! Oi have not played you since Oi was a little boy". Taking the guitar from the wall, I lay it across my desk and examine it with pure excitement. As I was fixing the string, an outstanding idea came to me in that moment. Why don't I play music out on the streets? Maybe that could make me some money and I could be able to pay my bills. A plus that would be involved is not having to ask my family for anymore money.

         Knowing this idea was in my head, it brought shear excitement to me and filled me with more hope than I could have possibly ever imagined. I will actually be able to feed myself and be able to pay my rent. I will be able to stay here and live a life that I thought would never be mine. I quickly grab a guitar pick and place it atop of my desk, excited to get started already. I can barely contain the joy that is filling within my heart.  

         I take a look around my house as I fiddle around with my childhood memory in front of my face. My bed is a complete mess. The midnight black blanket that was once in great condition, falling apart and having holes in it. It is a thick blanket but it has been worn throughout the years. It is half on the bed while the other half is collecting dust off of my wooden floor. The bed is small and is pushed as much as it can be againt the wall. The floor is not in as great condition as it once was. The boarding is coming off and the wood is not clean. 

        I bring my attention back to my guitar. Bingo! The string has been fixed. I open my laptop and type in "How to tune a guitar". It took me a couple of minutes but I finally hit the right note and away I went. Listening to the beautiful tune of the instrument before me brought me an intense amount of hope. Some of the sheets on my desk were ripped apart, possibly due to frustration. I took one and looked at it thoroughly. I noticed it was one of my old songs I wrote for my dad, it would always help him feel better if he was in a dark place. 

         Smiling, I stood up and cleaned off my guitar. I put it into the black case that came along with it and put my boots on. The memories flood back into me and pull at my heart strings. I wish the I was able to go back to the good ol' days when everything was not so tough. I shake my head, getting out of my own thoughts. Looking back at my living space, I smiled even more and walked out the door.

          The sounds of cars passing by, feet pitter pattering on the ground, many faces of old and young walking by. The smell of fresh bread being made and the sweetness of the cupcakes roaming through the air. I take a look around. The sky is a beautiful blue color, white puffy clouds and not a dark one in sight. Walking faster, I almost trip. I catch myself and start to laugh, I may be a little bit too excited for this moment but I cannot contain myself. There is a place on the sidewalk that I find and place my belongings on the cold, hard and grey cement. I open my guitar case and keep it open just in case others would like to throw some change into it. 

         Knowing everything is set up, I crack my knuckles and my fingers begin to move up and down the strings, bringing a soft melody to my ears. As time goes on, more and more people begin to show up and watch as I play. The smiles on their faces, the way they come together in harmony and dance to the beat shows me there really is hope in the world. Quarters, dimes, dollar bills, even twenty dollar bills being thrown into the case. I make sure I say thank you to every single person for listening to the calming sound of strings, even if they did not thrown in any money. 

         During the time of being outside of my home and in the town, I see a homeless man across the street near the rundown, abandoned bakery shop. His clothes are dirty, ripped and looks like they have not been washed in weeks, even months. He seems to be about in his thirties. Looking left, right then left, I cross the street. The man looks at me a little terrified but calms down a bit. "Can you spare any change sir?" He sounds defeated. Opening up my case, I toss a twenty dollar bill towards his way. "Here, keep it, you do not need to thank me" I kneel down and shake his hand. The light blue eyes look up into my turquoise colored ones and I can tell, how truly thankful he is. 

         He gives me a hug and tells me something I never thought I would hear, "No one has ever treated me this nicely before, they would either just walk by or tell me to get a job. I do not understand why people hate the needy and those who have nothing". Hearing those words made me realize something. There are a lot of mean people out there and they do not care about the homeless, only the rich. I hold out my hand and grasp his tightly. I give him some very important information in a serious tone. "Not everyone hates people like us, people in poverty are looked down upon by many but not all. Ya just have to find the right person who cares enough". 

         Before I know it, he is crying right in front of my eyes and thanks me for what I have done for him. When I was sitting on the sidewalk, everyone was enjoying my music. Maybe, they did not know I was also in poverty. They would have treated me differently if they knew what situation I am currently facing. They might think I am a bloody bludger. This scares me a lot. If they find out, they might stop giving me money and without money, that means no house, no food and especially, no life to live. 

          I start my journey home, the cool wind blowing ever so gently and barely making a sound in the night sky. Leaves slowly falling to the ground from the trees that once held them and not many people around. Only the ones who are closing up their shops for the day and getting ready to head home. Home. My family. I look up at the stars that are slowly starting to peak out from their hiding spots and get lost into a deep thought process. I have not really seen them or spoke to them ever since I moved out on my own. I wonder if they are okay. Or, if they are even missing me. Only one way to actually find out, I will call them and find out how they are doing.

        I use my keys to get into the house and lock the door behind me. What an interesting day it has been indeed. I flick on the light switch and put down my guitar case. As I am taking off my boots, I notice out of the corner of my eye my phone is flashing. Curious, I pick it up and take a look at why it is flashing. "1 missed call from mum". I start to panic and quickly type in her number. Ring. Ring. Ring. No answer. 

       My heart beating fast and my leg shaking. I try again..no answer. Now, I really am getting worried. One last try, I hear my mum's voice. Slowly, I begin to relax my nerves. She speaks up. "Honey? Where were you? Why have you not answered my calls?". She sounds a little scared. "I'm alright mum, I was just playing me music to the townsfolk. Are you alright?" A concerned tone in my voice. 

        "Oi...Oi just got worried something happened to ya. I called because I wanted to know if you would like to visit your dad's grave." It goes silent for a few seconds. I start to speak up. "Sure mum, Oi just need to get my shoes on. Will it be just us?" She sighs a little. "Yes, your older sister has to watch the younger ones. They did not want to come with anyways. I'll pick you up in an hour, love ya." Click. She hung up. I have a few questions to ask. Knowing I do not have to call now, I wait for the arrival of my mum. Maybe she does miss me after all. 

        Staring at the door, then back at the ground. The sounds of nothingness fills through room. I can only hear my own heart beating against my chest and the tapping of my foot against the hardwood underneath me. I close my eyes for a few minutes and imagine the sight of my dad. He is playing with me, throwing a ball back and forth. He tells me he will be back, he has some errands to run. I wait patiently for him. Morning turns to afternoon and afternoon to night. He is still not back. I begin to worry.

         The phone rings. My mom quickly goes to pick it up and her wide grin quickly drops. The mood instantly drops and she drops the phone. Worried, I run over to her. "Mummy, is everything okay?" She looks up at me, the life drained out of her. "Daddy..He won't be back sweetie, he has important business errands to run. Go ahead to your room, okay? I do as I am told and go upstairs. As I am doing so, I hear her sorrow through the house. My siblings go and hug her, she tells them something but I cannot quite tell what it is. Something is wrong and I knew it. 

        My dad would never come back. I knew something was wrong. I went into my room and knew, he is gone for good. The man, my father, my pride and joy, he would never return. I cried silently into my pillow that very night. Wanting to feel his touch again. My dad hurt, he hurt us and I had a bad feeling something happened to him. I never knew and was afraid I never would know, what truly happened to him.  

           It felt like hours have went by waiting. My elbows on my knees and hands cupped together under my chin. Why am I the only one wanting to go? Do not they not think he is good enough to see? He is our dad after all, no matter what he was like or what he did. As I feel the old scar on my cheek, a memory of the past, a knock on the door is heard. I open my eyes quickly, getting out of the memory I was trying to forget. "Coming". This was all I managed to say and I open the door. My mum's voice sounding a little distraught, "Ready, Kratos?" I nod without saying a word. I lock up and head towards the car. 

       We arrive at the graveyard. We get out of the car and walk up the hill to where my dad has been put to rest. It was a long, steep hill but we managed to pull through. I notice a bunch of purple flowers around the grave and read the markings to make sure it is my dad's resting place. "Here lies Kratos Willow, beloved man and father of four beautiful children". Reading it tears my heart into pieces and I sit on the grass, not saying a word. My mum finally speaks up, "This is it, this is his". I just stare at the grave for as long as I can remember. 

        "Oi know you must have a lot of questions but.." Her voice fading and slowly stopping. "But, what?" I question, looking at her concerned and puzzled. Silence is among us for a moment, until, she raises her voice once more. "Oi cannot answer them for you, Oi..Oi cannot keep lending you money, Oi..Oi cannot do anything for you anymore". My heart drops. "Oi brought you here to talk to you and you alone, I lied to you about them not wanting to come". "Oi did not want them to see you, not anymore and Oi do not want to see you anymore". Taking a deep breath, she speaks once more. "I'm sorry Kratos, Oi cannot support you anymore, you need to take care of yourself". 

         A single tear falls down her cheek and onto the freshly cut grass below us. Feeling completely numb and lost, I just sit still and do not utter another word. My mum gets up with hesitation and begins to walk off. "I'm sorry..It is for your own good and your siblings benefits..goodbye son". With that, she is gone and drives away. Leaving me to wonder and get lost within my own thoughts. Leaving me alone and alone with the man who was once alive. My dad. 

         Silence. It is such powerful word. The silence of the world speaking with so much force, not needing to utter a word. The woman known as my caretaker for when I was little, leaving me in the dust. "Me being alive feels like a burden on society, would you not agree?" Eyes wandering down to the grave below me. Violet flowers blooming with such beauty. I chuckle and just shake my head, "Your spirit seems to be more alive than what mine is right now". 

        I thought I had hope within me, it was just a false reality that made me believe everything would be okay. Dad, I love you. Rubbing my eyes and stopping the tears that are welling up from raining down. Without looking back, I walk down the path on which I was with my mum. The woman who betrayed me. Someone who I no longer see as a person of trust. A figure of my imagination, but, a figure who will forever leave a scar on my life. Just like my dad did. 

         Evening is approaching fast. Quickening my pace, wanting to just leave and go home. Wanting to be in sorrow all by myself and just to disappear from reality. I get to the halfway point. I recognize it due to the fact there is an abandoned building with broken windows and rusted up pipes coming out of it. On the other side of the street, an black alleyway with silver trash cans and newspapers on the ground. This is the side I am on. 

        As I rush to the direction of my house, I notice something oddly peculiar and strange out of the corner of my left eye. I stop dead in my tracks and listen closely, daring to lurk down the alleyway. A figure starts to approach. Barely being able to make out his features due to the darkness consuming the night sky. It is like I am paralyzed and in a nightmare. I dare not to get close and dart down the path towards my house. I look back and notice the figure is no longer there. Panting with every step, I make it to my house and wonder, who or what was that?

         I make sure my door is locked. My paranoia kicks in and I keep checking to make sure it is sealed tight. Looking out my window, rushing to the door, repeat. So curious to go back out and try to find that strange figure. My blood pressure is through the roof and my adrenaline is rushing through me. As nervous as I am, I rub my arm and continue towards the door once more and stop. The sound of my heaving breathing filling the room. 

        I back away and shake my head. "No, do not go back out Kratos, it is not safe". I whisper to myself and sit on the chair at my desk. I rub my hands on my face out of frustration and stress. My eyes wander towards the framed picture. The smiling faces of the people within it. Both of my sisters hazel brown eyes bursting with joy, my brother's cocky smirk, my dad's big hand holding onto my small and fragile one. Lastly, my mum. Her little smile and the way she looks at the camera fills me with disgust. 

       Rage bubbles within my blood and consumes me. I throw the picture against the wall. Glass flies and lands all over the floor. I slam my fist onto the desk, causing my hand to become numb. Who needs them anyways. They do not care about me, they never did. I gently pick up the picture off the floor and tear out my dad's photo. I place it on my desk gently and angrily trash the pictures of my so called "family". Tracing my eyes down to the floor, sighing. "I will clean this up later," I think to myself. 

        Carefully, I pick up my dad's photo and put into my jacket pocket. He really is the only one who cared for me, and I thought he was the one to hurt me the most. I look at my watch and notice it is only ten at night. It felt like time flew by but, I guess it did not after all. Taking a peek outside my window, I still contemplate what I am going to do. I lean against the kitchen counter, place my hand under my chin and begin to get into a complex thought process. 

        That figure really was strange. No noise or anything, it just silently walked towards me without making a sound. It is getting very late and I need to make a decision fast. What if I walk by the alleyway again tomorrow and I do not see it anymore? I finally decide that I have to make a dangerous choice, one that I might possibly regret it the near future. I think about it for a few moments and make a decision. It has been decided, I need to find whatever it was I saw and I need to do it, before it is too late. 

       A little shaken up from the incident a few moments ago, I try to remain calm the best I can. I quickly put my guitar down and grab the keys to the door. "You got this, stay strong". It feels like I am going insane for wanting to do this. Trying to find something that could possibly just be an figment of my imagination. It is better if I try though. That is what I was taught when I began to get older. It is a dangerous decision but I am willing to take it. 

       I check to make sure I have my pocket knife handy. Always having something to protect yourself is sure to be useful even if it does not seem like it. I pat my pockets and find it within my pocket that carries my dad's picture. Perfect. I push open my door and quickly turn it until I hear a click to make sure it is locked. Now, it is time to find that shadowy figure from earlier. 

        Backtracking my steps, I get to the place of which I saw the mysterious outline. I dig into my pocket and keep my hand there, waiting to be attacked. A few minutes go by and no weird figure is there. Another hour goes by, still nothing. I begin to think this was a ridiculous idea for me to come out here again. I knew I was just under a lot of stress. Knowing I am wasting my time, I turn to face my house and start moving my legs.

         Suddenly, a man comes out of the shadows. I quickly turn around and pull out my knife. "Woah there, is that a friendly way of saying hello mate?" The figure is definitely a man. The voice is deep and raspy, but yet, not threatening. "Who are ya?" I get defensive waiting for the figure to make one single sudden move on me. He slowly comes out of the shadows and I finally see his face. 

         I can tell he is no threat and put my weapon away. I still keep my guard up. "My name is Lancer Carr, I do not mean you any harm. I just know who you are". My eyes grow wide and I feel a bit uneasy. "How do you.." Lancer cuts me off. "I have known you for awhile, I know you from a good ol' friend of mine. It is a shame of what happened to him". My heart beating a thousand miles per hour, I ask. "Who do you know me from?" He puts his bulky hand on my shoulder and looks me right in the eyes. "Your dad". 

          The world feels heavy on my shoulders. "My..My dad?" I struggle to get out those words, they come out in more of a mumbled mess. "Your dad and I go way back. We have known each other ever since you were born. He used to tell me things all about you." He continues on. "Do you know what happened to your dad?" Without a clue of my actions, I shake my head and grow curious. "Well, your dad and I were in a business together, he would do things that you would not know about". I grow angry and frustrated. 

      "He used to leave and never tell me where he was going. He would always say he had to run "errands" or "do important business matters". My frustrations grow stronger. "Oi never even got to say goodbye before he left..now Oi never got to say goodbye for real.." Pain shoots through my chest, it feels like it is being stabbed over and over again. Lancer looks down a little and takes his hand off my shoulder. For him being a tall man and having a menacing look on his face, he seems to be a bit sympathetic. 

       "I am sorry..I know how hard it is to lose someone so dear to you. Your dad..he got murdered by a man he was selling alcohol to." Frozen in fear and confusion, I grab Lancer and push him against the alley wall. I stare him down and do not let him go. "How do you know this? You better answer within in ten seconds or ya will see true anger". In a panic, he begins to speak. "I..I was helping him sell them, we were trying to make a deal but the guy did not take too kindly to the offer at hand, he wanted more than what we bargained for". My grip loosens a bit but still is firm enough to hold him in place.

       My legs are shaky. "Why did ya not stop my dad..why?" The clear droplets fall to the ground. "I tried..he refused to give up trying to get the money but it all went downhill from there. I ran and called for help but by the time police showed up, the man and your dad were both gone." Looking at me, his face darkens. "They tried finding his body, but..he was nowhere to be found and they gave up". 

      His hand grabs onto mine and loosens my grip completely. In a daze, I just stand there. So much hatred and rage through my body. Not for Lancer, but for the man who killed my father. I never even knew my dad's body was not found, I thought it was under the grave this whole time. I gaze at Lancer and he does the same to me. "I have an offer for you, if you choose to accept it". Reaching in his pocket he pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper. 

       Jeff Lincoln. I can barely tell what the writing says since it is written in chicken scratch handwriting. "This man, is the man who killed your father. If you want to go after him, you can. I know where he is now and I can pay you handsomely for your efforts". My nose cringes and I close my eyes. My mind is telling me do not do it, but my heart is saying get him. Get revenge for your father. 

       Breathing deeply, I open my eyes. I clench my fist, making the paper crumple up again. "Oi will. Oi will do it". I can get revenge for him and pay my bills. I can be able to survive. Not thinking about the consequences of my actions, I grin evilly. This is a risky move to make, but who cares. All that matters in this moment is revenge and the will to survive.

        I feel a hand pat my back roughly, it is Lancer's. "Why don't you come back to my place? We can create a plan and I can give you something to eat while we are at it." Unsure about going back to a complete stranger's house, I ask "How can I be sure that you will not do any harm to me?" He chuckles a little and leans back against the dirty walls of the alley. "I have not done any harm to you yet have I?" I guess he is right about that. "Oi suppose ya are right about that, only one way to find out if ya really will or not". As I finish my last word, he pats my back once more. 

      "That a boy, come along now". He heads down the dark alleyway. I slowly follow right behind him and notice a door down the way. "This, this is my place. No one ever comes this way so it is perfect". He says with confidence in his voice. I roll my eyes. "I can definitely tell why, who would think about coming down a dark alley?" Pure laughter ends up coming out of Lancer. "I mean, you are and it didn't even take much to get you here". 

         I suppose he is right about that so I just stay silent. He opens the door and my jaw drops. It looks so nice inside unlike my house. It is a one floor house, two doors, one on the left which is the bathroom and one all the way across the room, guessing it is his room. There is a white fridge next to the bathroom door and a silver sink next to the fridge. The cupboards are made of wood, not a single speck of dust on anything. Everything looks so refined and clean.

         The floor is in tip top shape, the wood looks so clear you can see your own reflection in it. There is also a table, small in size but big enough to fit at least four people at it. Two chairs around it and a black leather sofa against the wall with pictures of..himself above it? He seems to be a bit egotistical but I won't mention anything about it. Even though, there is no family pictures. 

         Still in awe of how clean his place is, he asks me something. I do not realize that he does. He snaps his finger and I snap out of it. "Hey, I asked if you would like something to eat". I blink a few times and process what he just said. "O..Oh sure, Oi will take a sandwich. Just lettuce, ham and cucumbers if you have it." He lays out all the ingredients onto the table and begins to make it. I can tell he seems a bit confused of the ingredients I chose but he lets it slide. 

          I take a seat at the table. Once he is done, he brings the sandwich over to me and places it in front of me. I thank him and he nods, taking a seat himself across from me. "So, we need a plan and we need to do it right". I take a bite of my food and listen to him talk. He puts his hands on the table and interlocks his fingers together. "And I think I have just the plan for it". 

      Revenge. It is something many want to be able to get, not thinking about the consequences. Is it really the best way to go? That is a debatable topic for many to discuss. As I devour the last of my food, I lean forward a bit and interlock my fingers as well. What kind of plan could it really be? Is he going to go all out or take it slowly? Will it be us both or just myself? So many questions with so little time to spare. 

         Losing myself slowly into the thought of murdering someone, getting revenge is so..thrilling to me. I just laugh for a quick second and see that Lancer wants me to focus. "Listen, you need to get yourself straight or this is not gonna work. Do you understand me, Kratos?" The tone in his voice is a bit overwhelming. I settle down and pay close attention to the man in front of me. Knowing this is serious business, risky at that, I have to do this right. No fooling around. 

          Pushing back the chair and standing up, he gets up and walks towards the fridge. I look over and see many brown beer bottles. He picks two of them up and tosses me one. I catch it in the air and look at it closely. My addiction, the substance that numbs my pain, numbs any feeling of care. Feeling of remorse. "The plan is simple, if you choose to make it that way". Cracking open the bottle, I gulp it down like no tomorrow and slam it on the table. Making his way back, Lancer continues on with his speech. "The plan is, I will knock on Jeff's front door. Do not worry he will know I am coming, I will let him know ahead of time".

          Taking the last sip of the liquid within the bottle, I place it on the table. This plan seems reasonable so far. Intrigued now, I give him a hundred percent attention. "Give it about say, five minutes or so and go in through his back door". He goes towards his bedroom and I hear a couple of items being moved around. He comes back out and places a huge blueprint. It has a layout of the neighborhood that Jeff lives in. 

          So much adrenaline rising up inside of me. Wanting to get started right away with this plan. I must be patient though, this will not work if I am not cooperating properly. Not knowing how he got this layout, most likely from an old plan he had with Jeff and my father. They probably created it together in order to make whatever they had planned to work. Lancer continues on. "Oi will let him know that I am trying to make a "deal" with someone and he would like to meet Jeff in person. Saying that Oi told said person about him". 

          A few hours go by, listening to the plan, having him point to where I go and where he will be. How it will go out and how this should all end. It is a perfect idea. I am completely into it and cannot wait to get started. Jeff will not know what hit him. I shake Lancer's hand and we both smile at each other. This plan could not be planned out any better. Nothing could go wrong. Right?

       Now we wait. Morning is approaching and the birds are starting to chirp. The best time to strike would be at night. So when the sun begins to hide, we have more than enough time to get situated and have everything in place. I have no family anymore, they never cared. That is all I can think about. Them not caring. I was foolish to think someone could really care about me. Of all people, me. 

         I force the thoughts out of my head. "We will accomplish this mission at night, that is the best time. No one is out really and it is easier to make sure he does not make a sound". I begin to make my way towards the door as Lancer announces how we are going to do this. I nod and twist the door knob. "Understood, Oi will be back before it starts getting too dark out". I open the door. Into the world in front of me I go. 

           Jeff. The name of a man. Not just any man. A man of pure disgust, of greed. His day is almost over. My boots tap against the cold, solid cement below me. Imagining the concrete being replaced with his face. An evil grin comes across my face. His blood on the floor, the powerless and lifeless body being stomped into the ground. Oh, how good would that feel.

            I put my hands in my pockets and get startled for a second. It snaps me out of my twisted thoughts and I pull out the photo of my father from my right pocket. I examine it and rub my thumb over it. "Oi will get venegeance for you..Oi promise". Looking at the face that was once here. Dad. I promise that I will make sure Jeff does not hurt another person. 

            I reach my destination, my home. It is good to be back. I notice a paper on my door. It reads in bold red letters "EVICTION NOTICE-IF YOU DO NOT PAY YOUR BILLS WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK SAY GOODBYE". Tch. They do not need to worry, I will have my bills paid in no time at all. This is something I can actually keep my own word on. I do not have to worry anymore and neither does my landlord. 

             I push my door open. Creakkk. I missed that noise it made. This place seems much more lively now. I start to head towards my bed. The pillow and sheets still messed up from not making my bed properly. A nap is really needed before I do this job. I cannot be falling asleep on the job now can I? As I am heading the direction of my bed, I hear a crack underneath my boots. It is just the glass I said I would clean up. 

        Focused now at the broken pieces of my life on the floor. I pick them up with my bare hands and examine them with interest. Broken. That is something I am. I decide to keep them on my desk and only throw a few pieces out. I need something to remind me of how far I have made it. It comforts me to know I have a little piece of something to show who I really am inside. 

           I kick off my boots and plop down onto the bed. Looking up at the ceiling, I slowly close my eyes. Drifting off to sleep, I begin dreaming about my family. I look around. I am very short, I must be a little boy. The time things were at least decent in my life. No one is to be seen, no mother, father, sister or anyone. 

             I run around the house searching for someone. Someone at all. I suddenly hear a noise. My mum and dad arguing upstairs. I walk towards the stairs and crawl my way up the wooden steps. Trying my best to not make a sound. I reach the top and look towards the way of my parents room. 

              As I get closer, the yelling gets extremely loud. I slighlty cover my ears and look through the keyhole of their bedroom door. My dad's hand is raised and his smacks my mother across her mouth. I cover my mouth in order to keep from yelling for him to stop. Why does he do this? He needs to stop this. 

               He hits her once more and I cannot help myself. I scream for him to stop and burst through the door. As he is about to swing for a final time, he looks at me. I can see the rage in his eyes. My mother looks terrified and she runs out of the room. His focus is now on me. He slowly steps towards me and raises his hand. "Do not ever tell me what to do. Never".

               The anger within his voice is unreal. The fear within me rises, I start shaking and raise my arms to try and protect myself. As he begins to swing, I wake up and pant like I just lost the will to breathe. Unaware I am fully awake now and back where I was, I look around. I sigh knowing it was all just a dream. That is the definition of a true nightmare. 

       After a few minutes pass, I calm down. Looking at my watch, it is eight o' clock. Shoot, I am going to be late. I need to get their fast. I stand up quickly and put my boots on as fast as I can. Before I rush out, I grab a piece of glass and put it into my pocket. It is my own personal good luck charm. Running out the door and closing it, I do not even bother to lock it up. 

           I feel so out of breath but I finally reach Lancer's house. I knock on the door and he opens up. He does not seem too thrilled with me being late. "I am sorry I lost track of the time, I just layed down to take a nap. I manage to utter those words, still managing to catch my breath. "It is fine mate, I got everything set up already. You ready to go or not?" The irriation in his voice is real. 

           I stand up straight and nod, making sure to let him know I am ready and focused. I step back and let him come outside. He has the alcohol in his bag, along with a knife, and trash bag. I suppose that is to hide the body in so it is harder to find. "Lets go". Lancer and I look at each other. We both can tell we are ready so we head out. 

           On our way there, I break the silence and ask him about his life. "Hey, how did you decide to get into this business?" He raises an eyebrow at me and sighs. "Well, I was in poverty and your dad met me. I was homeless, he came up to me and offered me a job. I took the job and instantly loved working with him". He looks straight ahead. 

           I look at him out of the corner of my eye. I can tell he is outraged and feeling the same way I am right now. "Well, I am glad that he was able to help you out. It is not fun being in poverty. It really is not". I become very quiet after that sentence. He pats my back. "Just know your dad would be proud of you, no matter what he did in the past".

           I smile a bit. "Thanks mate, he would be proud of you too". Lancer just laughs a little. This man, a stranger, really knows me better than a lot of people already. I am really glad that I was able to meet him. The main focus is the task at hand. I could not ask for a better person to do this with. 

       On the way to Jeff's house, we were talking and talking about our life stories. Laughing and just patting each other on the back. "Tch, sorry for trying to kill ya back when we first met". I am able to say through my laughter. "Eh, tensions were high, I mean they still are but you know what I mean". Lancer lets out a chuckle and I just roll my eyes at what he said. 

          He stops laughing. I see him point ahead of him. "That is it. Right there". He seems to be a bit shaken up but I can tell he also very confident with this. It is time. The time for this man to get what he rightfully deserves. I reach into the black bag Lancer has on his back and pulls out a silver knife. It looks so clean and perfect. I hold it in my hand and grasp it tightly. 

           Lancer gives me the signal and I go around the house into the backyard. I look at my watch. It is five minutes to ten. Once it hits ten, I need to go in there. Quietly but quickly. I hear knocks on the front door. The plan has begun. I grip the knife even tighter in my hand. Waiting for the time I come in. 

            I hear a faint voice in the distance. It has to be Jeff's. It is just a bunch of mumbling, I cannot really hear anything. The door slams shut. Bingo, he is in. Two minutes go by. It is now three minutes to ten. Soon, I will get my revenge. I whisper to myself. "Dad, I really am becoming like ya. Oi do not know if Oi like it or despise it". I start to tear up.

             As the tears start to well up within my eyes, I hear a sound. Crash! Screaming occurs within that time. It is Lancer's voice. As soon as it hits ten. The sounds fade. I break through the door in the back and rush to where the noise came from. I go into the living room. The carpet now that was once a midnight black color is now stained with red. It is the blood of Lancer. 

             My body freezes. Jeff looks up at me. I grit my teeth and tears fall down onto the blood stained floor. "How pathetic he is. Thinking he could just come to me and trick me so easily. Hiring a peasant, a worthless black human to do his dirty work for him". He comes close to me and I raise my knife. My hand is shaking. "You must be Kratos". 

      My attention goes towards Lancer's lifeless body. Rage consumes me, nothing else matters but taking down Jeff. Even if I die in the process. I tackle him and hold the knife to his throat. "Ya killed him! Ya killed my dad and my friend, ya bloody bastard!" I push the knife against his throat even harder and blood starts drip down onto the blade. The knife shines brightly. I see my face in it and see the monster I really am. 

           The man below me laughs. Why does he not put up a fight? "You are such a foolish human, you know that? Kill me. I do not care. It will not do you any good in the process". He smirks and closes his eyes. The faint noise of sirens is in the background. The police. The neighbors must have heard the screams. I need to leave, I need to run and never look back. 

           I try to stop myself from killing him, but my body refuses to let him live. Refusing letting this creature live on with a victory, an false image of him thinking he has won. I am too far gone to go back. An evil smirk comes across my face and I can see it in the reflection of the knife. I let the knife go off his throat. I lift it above me. The memories of my dad flood back to me, his face has a huge smile on it. I grin even more than before.  

           I laugh uncontrollably and repeatedly begin to stab him in his heart. The blood, the sweet sight of his life being drained right out of his body. It feels like hours go by, feeling like I have stabbed him for an eternity. With one last stab, I breathe heavily and look at the man below me. So much blood, my hands covered with it. His eyes closed and his body unmoving. I get up off his body and look at the beautiful creation I have created. 

          My hands stained with the crimson blood of my enemy. My stained clothes. He still has that disgusting smile on his face. It makes me sick to my stomach and I spit on him. "G'Night Mate". I say with confidence in my voice. My eyes shoot towards the way of Lancer. I run over to him and hold him in my arms. Tears start to fill my eyes. He has a smile on his face. He is in peace. He knew I would get revenge and vengeance. 

         Knowing he died happy makes me feel joy. I did not meet him too long ago but he means the world to me. A friend. Something I never thought I could have. Even if it was for a short amount of time. A stab wound has punctured his heart. I hold him close to me. "You are free now. Tell my dad, Oi said, Oi love you". 

      I continue to hold Lancer close to me. Sirens are now closing in. Knowing my fate, I do not care anymore. My job is done. Lancer is now happy, he is free. The door gets kicked open and I look over. Red and blue flashing lights stinging my sight. The faces of the policemen are priceless.

          They look at me then back at each other. "You are under arrest for the murder of Jeff Lincoln and Lancer Carr". Forcefully, one of them picks me up and cuffs me. I do not even care that they think I killed Lancer. The duty is done. My sanity has been broken. I think to myself. Lancer, you damn bastard, you are very popular y' know that? 

           They bring me outside and I look back once more. They cover up the bodies. Policemen blocking the door, taking pictures of the evidence that is plain sight. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law". I can tell by their voices, they are disgusted with my actions. I am actually quite proud of them. 

            We reach one of the vehicles and I am pushed into the back with force. They slam the doors. Mumbled voices fill the air of this amazing night. I can see why men and women love to kill, it gives them a sense of relief. I look out of the car window into the night sky. The stars are even more beautiful than I imagined. They glisten brightly. 

            The moon shines brightly and radiates through this life. I will be seen as no longer a man, but a murderer. A villain to this world, to society. If only my family could see how far I have come. They will know who I really am now. Knowing of my criminal intents. It makes me chuckle. Who knew I would become such a creature like this?

       I am a prisoner. A prisoner of life, war, and everything else this world can throw at me. I sit on my mattress. In a single cell, with a dirty, rusted up sink. A broken and stained mirror. A single toilet that looks like it has not been cleaned within the years it has been here. At least I do not have to pay bills and I get free food until it all ends. 

          I await my punishment. The death penalty. I now wait for my time to come. Sitting on death row, it feels, peaceful. I reach into my pocket and pull out the broken piece of glass. I am surprised they let me keep this. I thought they would have taken it away from me. I guess it is a tiny piece so it does not really matter huh?

           I examine it thoroughly. It is such a small piece of my life that has so much meaning to it. Broken just like me. It is a beautiful fragment that will stick with me until my time is to come. Reflecting on how my life has been, I could not have imagined it to go any other way. Foolish for believing I could make it. 

            No more bills, no more life, family. This is my home now. This prison is a place of comfort. They gave me a pen just in case I want to write any of my thoughts or feelings down before my death is to come. Like it will make any sort of difference to my being. I reach into my other pocket and pull out my father's photo.

             Rubbing my thumb against it, I turn the photo around and begin to write on the back of it. "The man who hurt me but yet loved me more than anyone else in the world. I am glad to have been your son throughout the years. My pride and joy. Following in your footsteps through all my years and I continue to. Signed, by yours truly, Kratos Willow Jr". 

              As I am done writing, I continue to look at the photo. Smiling and laughing. My dad would be a bit concerned about me but he would understand. I love him and I know he loves me. I manage to get his photo onto the wall. I will take it down and keep it with me once I am in that chair. I grab my piece of glass and try my best to carve something into the rusty wall. I grinning wider than ever and leave this message for anyone who replaces me in this cell. "Dad, I am coming home".