So Idk, I was laying on the couch last night, watching Pretty Little Liars, and these lyrics came to me. A bit different than my other stories, where I start out with an angry/hurt Loki. Now I'm starting with a depressed/suicidal one. I hope you enjoy it all the same though!

I don't own Avengers and Loki and that general story. I do own Peyton and the lyrics.

PROLOGUE - REDEMPTION

"I'm a monster, a master of a lie, my secrets, are reasons everyone had to die, karma comin' back at me, karma bringin' me to my knees, karma trappin' me, will I ever be free?"

I live deep in the mountains of North Carolina, on the outskirts of a town where everyone knows everyone and gossip travels faster than wild fire. And though I arrived here three months ago, I am still the talk of the town. I'm a mystery to them. I refused to talk about my past and don't tell them this, but I didn't even give them my real name. Peyton Marshall. My mom would have hated that name- it didn't sound girly enough.

And so I punish myself by telling everyone that's my name. So whenever anyone calls, "Peyton!" from across the street, my heart would constrict with a pinch of pain in reminder. So that I would never forget that the reason why they're gone is my fault.

However, I'm rarely in town. The first day I arrived, I slept on a park bench that night. The next day, the owner of the diner across the street let me rent out the loft above. It's an area stuck in the 1900s. The prices were cheaper, vegetables and meat fresh from the neighboring farms, and, even in 2014, they still had flip cell phones, if they had any.

It was a quiet, quaint family of a town and coming from a big city, it was nice.

Until I moved to the town lines, in the hermit's old house. Apparently he'd been dead for weeks before a man he bought feed from for his horses stopped by. I learned this because I went a week and a half without going in town and a group of people came knocking on my door to make sure I was alive.

I didn't have money problems, thanks to my parent's will, so I didn't need a job. Once a week, I went and bought food to let the locals know I wasn't rotting in my bed. Otherwise it was just me and the horses I took over. They kept me from being too lonely and I just lived everyday working around the house or in the barn, or laying in bed trapped in guilt and longing for my family.

Nights were the worst. Before, nights were spent together. Either watching TV or talking or singing, or close family and friends over. Always laughing. Sometimes my brother and I fought, but never longer than a couple of minutes. We were close, and it was my secret that tore us apart.

Now, my nights consist of sitting on a rug by the fire, alone, writing songs about how I ruined my life.

I couldn't see past ever getting over this. As much as I wanted to end it all, I knew I couldn't. It'd be the easy way out, and my family wouldn't be happy to see me. If I even made it to they were.

And maybe that's why I got so involved with this Loki. Maybe if I could save him, I could save myself. Maybe, just maybe, I could redeem myself. If I changed the heart of this lying, cold blooded murderer, maybe I could earn my way back to my parents good graces. Maybe one day I could be free and look them in the eye again.