(A/N: Again a one way story and really short.)
Weak and alone, I traveled the world. I don't know what I was looking for or what I wanted. I walked along the forgotten road telling myself that one-day I will be happy. That one day I will not travel. Alone and forgotten, I continued to wander if I will ever find what I am looking for.
I'm weighed down by many memories of my past. I've done something's I am not very proud of. Blood stained my hands and screams of pain and fear still ring in my ears. I've killed countless people without thinking. Countless villages and homes fell at my feet. I couldn't go anywhere without people running away in fear.
I cannot find salvation or happiness. It's been many years now and I still can't get these memories of what I have done out of my head. People have forgotten about me. They don't fear me anymore. They don't know what I have done. And yet, sadly, I can't go back in time to stop myself from doing these things. I can't bring back the people that I have killed so long ago. All I can do now is live on and try making up for my sins.
But I am now lost. Forgotten up till these days. No one knows me. No one cares for me or spares me a second glance.
I'm alone and forgotten, forever.
(A/N: I wrote this one-day out of boredom. So, don't sue me or give me flames, ok? )