Hope. That's a funny thing right? 4 simple letters that when together mean so much. I lost my hope for anything a long time ago. Hope, just something to disappoint you when it doesn't turn out right. Hope for other people keeps them alive. Nick, for example, when he was buried alive, hope kept him from putting the gun to his head. Hope won't stop me doing that. I don't believe anything could.
When I sleep at night, I dream about all the cases I couldn't solve. I see the faces of the victims, so lifeless and sad. I feel I have failed them and failed myself. I know some cases don't have enough evidence to solve but I still can't help but feel guilty.
Hate. Hate is something I have a lot of these days. I hate everything. I hate my job. I hate feeling the way I do. I hate myself. Hate is something that is hard to get rid of. You can't just click your fingers and it all goes away, however much I want it to. It hasn't always been this way. I haven't always been bitter and helpless. I used to be happy and strong, before I came to Vegas. The people here don't know me. They don't know the person I wish I still was.
I wish I was still in San Fransisco. I wish I never even left but I can't turn back the time now. Like so many people who come to Vegas, I gambled my whole life when I came here.. and lost.
That chapter was VERY short. Still liking the story? Please review.