Prologue

Let me tell you what I see.

The sky is dark, a thick cloud of despair and woe floats menacingly above the city streets. A cold rain falls down on the greasy streets, headlights reflect off as they slide across them.
I can't see a single star through the luminous clouds. The my skin feels like its stuff with cotton, I can't feel a thing. Not a single slight tingle as the rain hits my face. Nothing but the cold is felt.
My chest aches, such is the price, I suppose.
I twitch in the cold wetness of misery. I can't believe its really happened.
Bring my eyes to tears, my chest is as wet as the city streets. Let my cheeks flow as the swears below my feet do.
Tell me how much of a mistake it was, tell me she's so much better than I am.
Tell me I was a mistake, that you were just drunk. Tell me I meant nothing.

Don't tell me anything. That would be the worst treatment of all.
She's dead, I'm dying. Being pushed down the wet sidewalk in a wheelchair to a car that isn't mine, by a guy I hardly know. This is the life I have now. The second best attempt at happiness.
And lying somewhere in a trashcan is our aborted son or daughter, but you'll never know this, will you?
You'll never know how we got to this point. You don't give a shit, you never did.
You'll never know what I would have done for you, what I did for you.

This is my revenge story, you self-centered asshole.

-Sir Jestro