Dear Diary,
He's filth. He's dirt. Not even that. He lives off the pain of others, he gets a kick out of it. Seeing people squirm... he loves it. He has no honor... no pride... no dignity. How can anyone like him have such things? Whatever he says, whatever he believes, he's still nothing. He's a tyrant. He kills for sport. It doesn't matter who or what he kills. As long as he stops something breathing, he's happy. Sometimes I think he'd even kill his own race if he was given half the chance.
I... I loathe him. I hate everything about him. There isn't a single drop of good in him. His eyes... they glare at me. His lips, they smirk wickedly at my pain. His laugh, it haunts me. He laughs at me. He's driving me insane. I...
Oh God... what do I do..? I can't keep this up. What if he wins? What will happen then?
My family...