"The five secrets of Torn."

Number one: I sleep with at least one light on.

I never got over my nightmares.

I guess I can't justify this being ok, but I'd be damned if it isn't the whole truth. 30 years of torture will do some crazy stuff to your head I'm sure. No one has ever known me to chicken out of anything. Not even Ashlien knows about my nyctophobia, and I intend to keep it that way. Pride is the one thing the baron didn't seize from my hands.

The funny thing is I can't remember a time where I wasn't afraid of the dark.

I'm often perplexed with memories trying to unveil when and why I was suddenly in a cold sweat when the sun went down and all I come up with are foggy washed details of my childhood. Sometimes I remember that time when my grandmother had an asthma attack due to the smog of the city. It was so dark and grimy outside that day. I went out into the slums yelling for help like a mad man, because we couldn't afford something as trivial as an inhaler. I was eight years old when that happened, but I was still afraid of the dark so I force myself to think back further back to when my old man was still alive. Well just barely alive. I only physically saw my father one time, and that was the day he died. Grandma was weeping over him. I couldn't even understand how she knew it was dad with his helmet still on and blood smeared all over his face. I couldn't even tell it was a man, let alone my father that worked as a KG guard. I remember he was complaining, no he was whimpering, about the world getting dark and how cold he was. The story goes that he jumped in front of a metal head to save the heiress to the praxis throne. Some girl my age named Ashlien who went to private school. I saw her one time. She had on this girly school uniform and her red hair was drawn into two pigtails, but that's all I saw from her since a bunch of KG goons were surrounding her like she was the city's only reason to live. The baron never gave his thanks to our family.

I guess I didn't understand politics back then, because the only thing I learned from my father's death to protect some self asserted princess was that the dark meant a very painful death was coming.

Number two: I never really had anything against Daxter.

Daxter: Hey! Tattooed Wonder! How come we get all the crappy missions?
Torn: (emphasizing each word) Because I...don't...like...you.
Daxter: (meekly) Fair enough.

I remember that conversation with the fuzz ball well. It's not that I didn't like him…well let me rephrase that, because at the time I loathed that creature. He wouldn't shut up and he was so cocky to be so small. I guess at the time I didn't trust Jak. He could've easily been a spy and the worst could've happened. But back on the subject. Daxter isn't such a bad guy, once you get past the smell, annoying sense of humor, and that god awful story telling. I never had any friends and if anything I respected him of sticking to Jak, for no reason at all. The more I watched the two the more envious I got. Jak of course was the great Mar and yadda yadda. I wasn't jealous because of Jak's power; if I wanted power I could've stayed in the Krimson Guard. It was Daxter. He could be whatever he wanted to be. And he wasn't afraid to express himself. I had to be reserved top commander twenty-four seven. But daxter. He was …daxter.

However I will take that to my grave.

Number three: I like sharp objects.

My sister used to cut herself.

My knife is my most prized weapon. I love it more than my twin pistols though I never use it. I had a collection of knives to be honest. More like an "obsession" according to Jinx who accidently stumbled on it while wondering the hidden room of the underground. Of course Jinx shrugged it off. To him, liking sharp objects was mellow compared to the pyro-manic he was. I have over two-hundred knives of varying sizes and shapes and I shined them up every other day.

As I said before my sister cut herself. I can only be so general, because I don't remember the details. My sister's face was always twisted in some lonesome expression and had dried tears and dirt on it. I like to think she would have been pretty if we had water to wash up everyday. Anyways late at night I used to sneak into my sister's room after grandma was out working. My mother was apparently a lost cause, because she was just M.I.A for most of my life. Grandma would tell me stories, but somehow I guess they weren't ever good enough. But my older sister had the curse of actually knowing both of our parents before they left.

I say curse because wisdom can be hell. I think she understand how corrupt Haven was before anyone else. She sensed the foul atmosphere because I even could stick my head out the window. Her wisdom of the world wasn't the bad part. It was the part that Ren was absolutely fucking helpless to do anything about would watch her friends and family die one after another and she could only watch as the city decays. So to curve her pain she took razors, pens, I even seen Ren sharpen rocks and dig into her porcelain skin with ease. Ren never stopped when she knew I was watching her, and she finished she would wipe off her blood and take me into her arms. Sometimes when she was at school I sneak into her room and play her cutting tools.

Number four: I have a huge sweet tooth

I was busy checking over my shoulder as I was walking down the street. I was clearly unnerved about who was watching me. Ashlien was looking at me with a curious, yet amused stare. The governor of Hevan took my hand and held it tight. "It's just chocolate cake, Torn." She mused and I proceed to shush her as I held the pastry box a little closer to my chest. "Don't say that too loud."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head making her dreadlocks shake.

Not much to this secret expect when I was a kid I couldn't afford a loaf of stale bread, let alone candy. So when pay day came around well I couldn't help but to binge. Some people are chain smokers like the queer Razor guy we encountered in Kras City, Jak's woman could last an hour without checking her version of the bible, an engineer's magazine. Me, I had to have cakes, candies, pies… one day a month I gathered as much as I could and just consumed it all day.

But you see, I am the general of an elite group. Mr. hard ass himself. If I ever got caught consuming a box of Girl Scout cookies… I wouldn't hear the end of it.

I looked over my shoulder and swiftly brought Ashlien in for a quick peck on the cheek and she smiled. "We better get a move on, sweetheart. The doughnuts sell like hot cakes."

"Whatever you say, cream puff." She giggled in a hush tone.

Secret number five: I love my life.

Well now I do. Not that I'm an emotional wreck here. Let me explain.

I love being able to hold Ashlien when she's angry. I'm the only one who could calm here rage and I thought that that was one of the best things about our relationship.

I love exchanging acrid comments with Daxter in the Naughty Osstel. I loved the way Jak would roll his eyes in a purely platonic way. I loved the way Tess would always smile at me despite my mean leering expressions. I loved the way Sig and Jinx made jokes about Samos and Onin behind their backs. I loved the challenges we faced and most of all I loved the outcome. Living here in the Haven we all worked in to recreate. It's what I loved most.

I loved how I could finally smile and be at peace, but if anyone knew I had gone soft Jak would never let me here the end of it.