Tell me, have you ever done something so bad that you felt good about doing it? No remorse, no anything. Just the satisfaction of having pulled of the most stupidest, most fucked up act in your whole fucking life? Well I can tell you right now that this wasn't the first fucked up mistake in my life, that's for sure.

It wasn't the first and it sure as hell wasn't going to be the last. I wasn't done, it didn't satisfy me enough. The thought of them falling head first towards the pavement as the truck sped by colliding full force against their bodies.

No, it wasn't enough.

The blood spilled wasn't nearly enough to satisfy my thirst for revenge. I wanted to destroy not only them but everything that they held dear. I wanted them to suffer and not have the thought of hurting me run through their minds.

All I could say was that they deserved it and that doing this to me was the biggest mistake of their lives.

You may be wondering that if I'm capable of something so horrid why did I let myself get hurt by someone like him. Why didn't I fight back? It was utterly simple really. Him hurting me was like an escape... it made me feel like I was paying back for all those things I did back then, for all those I hurt.

I never fucking loved that dumbass, he was only good for sex and that's all. I'm the type of person that likes it rough, not ashamed to say it. I was always intrigued by his looks and attitude, I knew the way he was and I wanted to have him. I knew he would hurt me in the end I knew what I was getting into but I just didn't care.

A truly screwed up person I am. I used him so I could atone to at least some of my sins and ended up either killing or almost killing him, out of a fit that wasn't even jealousy.

I lied, you wana know the reason why I hate her? It wasnt because she was some slut (which she was) it was because I hated her brother.

Heh, I killed that bastard a few years ago while he tried to catch me. He was a police man he was, I guess you could say a descent one at that. But he just wasn't up to my skill level. Even though the damn bastard tried to catch me.

I used to be in a gang... don't judge. It was one of the most famous one's in Karakura. They were known to do some heavy damage, they killed and harassed anyone they didn't discriminate. Tell me as a child did you ever see another kid your age get beaten up with a bat to death and enjoy watching it? Well I joined when I was ten, where my family was at the time, you don't need to know.

I pretty much raised myself with those losers, but the point is that somehow that mother fucker found out our base I was like 13 or 14 when it happened. It was every asshole for himself at the time, so we all ran, I as a clumsy kid fell and made a huge noise that got myself caught by him. First thing I found lying around closest to me was a convenient knife. I cut his throat and stabbed a him a few times in the heart and boom he was as dead as I was at the time.

No one ever found out about me or the killing since I have this thing with making great getaways with out being found out and disappeared. Years passed and I had become a somewhat normal high school student since I quit the gang I was in (they got lame all of a sudden). Then I met that bitch, you're probably wondering what the hell she has to do with any of this, but her face... it reminded me of that bastard. I always hated her for it, every time I saw her it reminded me of the look he gave me as I stabbed him, it was like he didn't blame me for it, like... like he pitied me or something. That same look she would give me and it would just infuriate me.

Why wasn't I being blamed for his death? I killed him. Why didn't he look at me with hate? I always wanted to tell her that I was her brother's killer just to see if that look in her eyes would change. What look would she give me then, if they changed spots and I would've killed her instead, would that be the same look he would give me?

I always wondered that, I've always wanted to know.

Though that desire was soon forgotten when I met Grimmjow. I changed... I became the masochist Ichigo, the one that would take his shit and say that it was for the better.

But that was never my true self, it was never the person I really was. The real me was always inside, hidden away, that voice that I once called conscience, it was always the real me that wanted to get out but knew that it wasn't the time to, that is until now.

The me now that wants to kill has always been the real me. I've never wanted to change, I just had to accept the fact that I could never atone for my sins, that the only way I could ever feel alive was taking the life of another.

It made me feel like someone, like I belonged in this world. I mean what's a story without its antagonist? There would be no story.

I make this story have a purpose, a reason why it should exist. Being the main character of this horror story... it suits me quite well.

I smiled at my thoughts and began whistling again as I made my way down the dark street to the destination I was supposed to deliver the box to.

I wondered why I was still going through all the effort of getting the damn box to where it was supposed to go but had a feeling that at the end there might be something good.

After a few twists and turn and up hills and down hills, I finally made it the address, which only infuriated me when I noticed that I had reached my apartment.

I gritted my teeth but let it go smiling at the thought that at the this point there wasn't a single thing that could spoil my night.

I made my way up to my apartment room, closing the door behind me as I made my way in. I took the box and ripped it open like a child opening a present on Christmas.

I looked at the object inside only to find a book with a note on top of it. I took the note out not caring much for the book and setting it aside on the coffee table beside me.

I unfolded the paper looking at the surprisingly neat handwriting in it.

Dear Ichigo,

If you're reading this it means that your true self has reemerged. I know that its been a long time since we've seen each other but please remember this, don't forget who you've tried to be for so long. You may think that he's a fake but he isn't. He's part of you Ichigo, he's always been part of you. That one part that has remained pure even though you've been through so much, that part of you that has fought so hard to keep you from losing yourself again. You are not meant to kill, I know that it hurts when you when you do, I know that you are suffering as you read this and think of all that has happened. By this time I am long gone, I thank Kisuke for giving this to you, he has done so much for the both of us, I'm glad that you have someone like him to stand next to you. Remember Ichigo, it isn't your fault what happened... well you may not remember now and maybe it should be kept that way but just know that I have never blamed you for it ad there is no reason why should be blamed. We've all done wrong in our lives and you are not to blame.

I love you

Rukia

I read the letter a few times not knowing what to say or do... Rukia? Who the hell was this person? and how did she know about my true self? More importantly Hat'n'clogs knew about me all along? But how?

Everything was so... confusing, I mean I had just remembered myself and now I'm being told that this isn't who I am? Then if it's not then... what the hell have I been thinking this whole time?

My past... I only remember about killing her brother... that's it. What else is there? What did I do before that? What happened to my family? Who is this Rukia person and what does she have to do with Kisuke?

This... it hurts my head.

There's so much pain in my head.

I fell to the ground holding onto the very source of my pain as if it would explode at any second. My vision became blurry and everything around me became nothingness as I drifted off into this painful world inside me.