"YOU DONT EVEN KNOW ME! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SAVE ME?"

I scream the words, knowing the only ones to hear will be the homeless who sit on the corners in a daze, drunk from a mixture of alcohol and hopelessness. Rain runs down my face mixing with my tears caused by a pain so great it shakes me to my core. I wish I could wash away just like the raindrops, go with them down these littered alleyways and streets. Never in pain, just flowing. Existing souly to fall from the heavens and linger on earth for a short time, briefly giving life before receding to the clouds above n in an endless cycle. That life seems like something I would enjoy, and even feels oddly familiar.

As I once again begin sloshing down the dark alleyway on my way towards home, a revelation brought on through my sorrow born raindrop daydream catches me. Any life or...death would be better than this life which I lead. Walking in rain, knowing nobody can tell the difference so I waste no energy trying to stop the tears. And with nothing to focus on, my mind drifts to memories of my life thus far.

Growing up I remember watching my parents slowly become more and more disappointed in me. I remember my mother yelling at me, screaming her hatred for me. My father shaking his head, turning away in disgust, bottle always in hand. And I remember that day in December, finding my mother's corpse in the frozen garden, skull shattered into oblivion, crows pecking at the warm brain matter on the ice. She had killed herself, no longer could she stand my fathers drunken beatings. Then, memories of my father's sorrow filled wails through the walls at night. Occasionally I would even catch him in the study holding my mother picture, but when he saw me it was always the same. "You took her from me, you did this,"

And on the day I turned nine, my father finally gave in to his grieve. He had the only people he could get to take me pick me up at our house. I remember them paying him, thanking him for contributing to the Nexus and its cause. The people then restrained me, drugged me and took me away.

But even now, thirteen years later, I'm still consumed by sorrow and there is a void that aches, a void that I feel can never be filled. My life is empty, devoid of cause or drive. And had that man not taken away my chance, I would have been free of all of it.

My reentry into reality from my thoughts is bittersweet. My vision is blurred, my face feels hot, and the rest of me is cold from rain. I thank the heavens that its three in the morning and it's too dark and rainy for anyone to see what a mess I am. But I think even if people could see I don't think I would care. I'm too weak, and much too worn. After working all day with crazed thoughts, every little thing is beginning to tease, confuse, and mess with my mind. Like how what happened on the top of the gate doesn't even matter because in the end, I'm still miserable, still lost, the nexus is still looking for me, and worst of all, I'm still alive.

These little things replay like a broken record inside my mind until the pain once again swells and almost involuntarily, I scream into the night sky. But in the end I feel no better. All I've done is mixed my voice with the rain and caused a white noise of sorts. A white noise that in end, prevents me from the hearing the car speeding down the backstreet that I'm on, coming right up behind me. And only when my voice dies do I hear the car but it's to late for me to get out of the way, and the driver is too far gone from his cocktail of drugs and alcohol to remember which petal the break is andit barrels on towards me and…