Prologue
I lay alone in the harshness of my cell, my eyes are closed. I dare not sleep but it is better that anyone watching me through the surveillance cameras thinks that I do rest, otherwise they may suspect that I am planning something. The coldness of the room does not bother me as much as it used to, nor does no longer being able to tell weather it is day or night. I have been alone for hours, maybe days, I no longer know the passing of time. ItÕs as if time stands still. I do not mind though, for the quiet gives me time to think, to remember.
It is as I lay there that I am able to recall many memories of my life, no, lives. For if you were to truly inspect my history you would find that I led many different lives, each remarkably different. In my lifetime I have had many personalities, and now it is hard to distinguish which of those was true, and which were false. Looking back on it now, each life, each personality was so different, and yet one thing remained the same in all of them, pain, there was always pain. Whether or not I allowed it to be seen, it was always there. Perhaps things could have turned out differently, or maybe somehow no matter what I did, I was ultimately doomed. Sometimes it seems that I was destined to see nothing but pain and death in my life. That I am cursed somehow to an existence based solely on deception. If I am ever to escape the lies, to see the truth, this I know not, for if there is any good in this world, I have yet to see it.
But somehow through it all I have survived. I wonÕt pretend to be proud of my past actions, not now that IÕm all alone with no one but myself. But I survived, I did what I had to do to survive, to stay alive. IÕm strong, I know that, but if IÕm so strong then how come when ever I have a moment to myself I am haunted by my past? If IÕm so strong then why am I always hiding, hiding behind a mask of cold indifference?
These are my secrets, this is my story.
I lay alone in the harshness of my cell, my eyes are closed. I dare not sleep but it is better that anyone watching me through the surveillance cameras thinks that I do rest, otherwise they may suspect that I am planning something. The coldness of the room does not bother me as much as it used to, nor does no longer being able to tell weather it is day or night. I have been alone for hours, maybe days, I no longer know the passing of time. ItÕs as if time stands still. I do not mind though, for the quiet gives me time to think, to remember.
It is as I lay there that I am able to recall many memories of my life, no, lives. For if you were to truly inspect my history you would find that I led many different lives, each remarkably different. In my lifetime I have had many personalities, and now it is hard to distinguish which of those was true, and which were false. Looking back on it now, each life, each personality was so different, and yet one thing remained the same in all of them, pain, there was always pain. Whether or not I allowed it to be seen, it was always there. Perhaps things could have turned out differently, or maybe somehow no matter what I did, I was ultimately doomed. Sometimes it seems that I was destined to see nothing but pain and death in my life. That I am cursed somehow to an existence based solely on deception. If I am ever to escape the lies, to see the truth, this I know not, for if there is any good in this world, I have yet to see it.
But somehow through it all I have survived. I wonÕt pretend to be proud of my past actions, not now that IÕm all alone with no one but myself. But I survived, I did what I had to do to survive, to stay alive. IÕm strong, I know that, but if IÕm so strong then how come when ever I have a moment to myself I am haunted by my past? If IÕm so strong then why am I always hiding, hiding behind a mask of cold indifference?
These are my secrets, this is my story.