During my time in prison, I've gotten stronger. It's only been two years, yet I have built more muscle and can lift up to more than what I could ever thought of. Sure, I didn't look like a bodybuilder, but I've gotten stronger. I know it. Everyday, working hard and even exercising in the weight room, my bench is now over 250 and deadlift almost at 400. I smirked at my new sizable muscles as I flexed my bicep.

I felt more powerful than ever, and I loved it. I was betrayed and it hurt, but now I feel like I can handle it now, physically and emotionally.

Escape the Fate is going great, I've heard and seen on T.V. Craig is now the lead for the band and they have a new album out, This War is Ours. I laughed, not heartedly, but in actual pain, I laughed. I remember Craig. He was an awesome dude, but now he is a traitor as well. They are all traitors. How could they do this to me? Leave me here all alone in pure emotional solitude.

I slammed my eyes shut shaking my head, trying to get out of my state of paranoia, but how could I help it? My heart has been broken-shattered these past two years and it has yet to fix itself. It gets more cracked and it falls apart more and more each day until I'm on the actual verge of self-destruction. I always plot of how I could successfully do it.

I opened my eyes and took a deep breath and thought very hard of how to overcome this overpowering shadow that was once Escape the Fate-that was once Max Green.

All I could think of was asphyxiation; not mine though...theirs. My now stronger hands gripping and squeezing their throats until I felt better. I could actually feel them struggle for a breath of air, begging me to stop my doing, and it felt all too good. Murder was on my mind and it wouldn't be going away very soon.

I felt better and curse my bipolarism, but I felt better than I did two minutes ago.

I heard heavy footsteps approaching and I tore away from my delightful fantasy of bloodshed and murder. I straightened myself up, preparing to be called upon.

"Prisoner 20031, get in position," said a voice. I looked up from my bed and got on the wall, hands on the wall, palms down, feet flat, legs spread. I knew it all too well.

My cell opened up with a huge clang of metal colliding into metal. I didn't speak because I knew I couldn't.

"The warden wants to speak to you," an officer said as he patted my back which meant I had to get cuffed now. I obeyed and put my wrists together behind my back, my head still low.

I couldn't look upward, otherwise I would break code and possibly get tackled by 10 officers, but I really wanted to. The anticipation was making my heart hurt and my veins hurting from the thickness of my blood from the adrenaline. I breathed deeply, trying to let loose, but it was no use. I was too nervous.

When we finally went in there, I heard the warden's voice.

"Look up," he said and so I did. I looked at him right in the eye, my heart seeming to beat so hard, it was almost audible.

"20031, your sentence is now over. Have you learned anything?" he asked. In response, I stood there in silence and mentally answered the question like I wanted to.

I learned that you can't trust no one worth shit, and prisons are good to build muscle. I haven't learned anything to actually help me in life because I'm still broken. I'm still hurt from happened those two years ago.

"Yes sir, I have," I answered. The warden raised an eyebrow, but didn't continue on the question. Perhaps he didn't want to hear what I have learned.

"You haven't really spoken these past two years. Are you certain you are okay enough to get out of here?" he asked, looking at a clipboard which were my files. I gulped and exhaled deeply. I really didn't know if I was ready to go back. My hands were so ready to grab onto my traitor's throats, I could feel their warm skin on my cold hands.

"Of course, sir," I said.

"Get him ready. His process of leaving begins now. Pack up, and, uh, Ronald?" asked the warden. I continued to look into his hazel eyes, trying to remain emotionless and calm although my blood flowed thick through my veins.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," he said. I grinned in a sinister way.

"I can't even imagine that."

I walked into my dark apartment that hasn't been paid off in two years. I sighed as I collapsed on the couch hearing it creak under my new weight of my body. The only direction I knew how to look for the moment was up. The ceiling was dull and blank. I remember just two years ago of how lively this apartment was when Max and I would dance and cuddle together. We would laugh and stumble in a mess from such excitement.

A salty tear exited my eye and landed on my chest as I refrained from looking up at the ceiling for it was almost like staring a white abyss of what I once had, but don't have anymore.

"So, you would just like for us to start billing you again, Mr. Radke, sir?" asked a blond woman at the desk of my apartment place.

"That's right," I said. "I'm back and would like to continue to live there."

She nodded as she did some very loud typing on the keyboard to the main computer. As she was doing that, I was twirling a pen, humming an old song of mine that I enjoyed, Cellar Door. My eyes were just roaming, responding to the woman's typing until I happened to look down at the desk which held and ad.

My eyes grew so wide at the ad and my jaw dropped. It was very rude of me, but such a view caught my off guard as I read, "ESCAPE THE FATE PERFORMING AT THE CROWN COLISEUM ALONG WITH OTHER ACTS FEATURING…"

I didn't pay as to else was performing. All I could think about was Escape the Fate.

"Sir, it has come to my attention that your information is no longer available. You have to go to the bank to retrieve it."

"April 23rd," I said softly to myself. "That's barely even a month away…"

"Sir?" she asked softly. I looked up at the woman who had a very impatient look dwelling upon her face. "Your information-"

"Thank you, Miss, but I'll be okay. Make my apartment available because I am no longer a resident here."

She said something in response, but I didn't hear it as I was immediately leaving the building. I didn't have time to try and listen to whatever she had to say, because I was devising a plan. A plan that would get my revenge and something that would teach them a lesson for the rest of their life.

First, I have to start with someone who would possibly take it to heart. Max. Still, even though he is the love of my life, he will pay. He will pay. They will all pay. I have been wondering if he has ever gotten over me and gotten a new lover.

It sickened me to even think about such an abomination. I couldn't even focus actually became nauseated at my thoughts and how they collided so hard together.

My revenge, I couldn't even think of anything except for a faint voice that popped into my head.

A little game of truth or dare when we were just teenagers, Max and I, that I could faintly remember.

All I remember was that Max was too much of a pussy then to pick dare and so he chose truth and I learned that his greatest fear was to be buried alive. Buried alive. I snickered as I realized what beauty my plan would be.