I was going to kill my father.
I was going to set him afire and when he writhed in excruciating pain and torment (not to mention agony), I was just going to sit and laugh. And then when he begged for mercy, I was just going to look into his black, hard eyes, and laugh some more, watching every movement of torture with a smile plastered on my lips. Nothing would please me more than to see my father die by my own hands, to be the one who takes it away like the monster I was.
Was, not am.
That was going to have to wait until I was rid of these god forsaken chains around my arms, keeping me here in this tall tower. Very cliché, I know, but it's all about the show for him. It always has been.
But how I got myself into these messes was beyond me. I tried to live like a normal kid-going to sc
