It was just too easy. Evil but easy. I guess that's just what I've become.
A monster.
Revenge is all I see in my fiery eyes. Red, burning hatred, destroying all that was good in my petty soul. God won't be missing much anyway. All I want and all I see is the old man's humiliation. He once helped me, believed in me. Well, not anymore. I have no respect from him now. Now all I have from him is the bloody scar across my face and the permanent mark of betrayal in my heart. No, he deserves this. No longer will he be falsely adored by blind followers. He is no idol. He is no prophet.
He's just a crazy old man. A contradicting old pariah who will sacrifice anyone but himself for his harebrained beliefs. He DESERVES this.
But she doesn't. She doesn't deserve this terrorist attack. She's the light through our darkness, the peace in our wars. I used to think I was an angel, but I sold my wings off long ago.
I guess that's what drugs do to you. That's what anger does to you.
I shouldn't be doing this, I wish I didn't have to. I don't have to! I could just let the old man go his own way. Leave this all behind and ignore the bitterness he left me, the degradation he caused me, the anger he provoked in me. Let him lead more young fools in to his deadly trap, claiming that "it was a sacrifice the island demanded". Was Boone a sacrifice? A meaningless pawn in the island's plea to lead us all into redemption? His death, the mark for greater things? This is why I have to do this. Who knows who will be next in his treacherous games? Me? What rubbish.
But no, this is what he's lead me to. Insane plots of revenge. This is all his fault. No one would suspect it was me anyway. Who would think up something like this? Not me. Who would go through with such a ghastly thing? No, not me.
Little do they know. None of them know. Least of all him. There are times I stop and think to myself, will this be worth it? Probably not, and I don't even care. But that's just what I've become now.
An animal. A monster.