He found new strength in hate.
He’d born to absent parents who’d been too busy with the careers to give a shit about him. He’d grown up bullied and beaten on playgrounds and in classrooms. And then, as an adult, he’d gone from the failure to failure. He’d had no friends, no family . . . known no gentle touch. And then . . . the dissertation committee.
Bastards! Stinking pompous bastards.
And finally . . . finally . . . he was Here.
That’s quite enough, thank you very much.
The hate grew in him. The hate saved him. It filled him. It gave him new energy.
He would be avenged. He would find out who put him here. He would track them down and destroy them.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment