Dying never fazed me; death was not the end but the beginning. Life was a habit not a choice. It was how you faced death that really mattered not how you got there. One thing I believed in for sure, was karma, what you give in life is what you would get in return. That was also the reason why I thought I was cursed; everyone who ever got close to me left this miserable existence and I was left alone, I got so lost, emptiness filled every chamber of my heart.

I am strong on the surface but a car wreck at the core, I don't feel like who I am, I'd lost myself smothered by all the layers, I'd tried to break free only to get cut again, the world had teeth and always seemed to find me, but this time, I was more powerful than anyone could ever imagine, my focus was impeccably toned. Trees shouting, the wind screaming, the night shines blank over the London sky. My temper had snapped I was seeing red for the first time in years, one man stood in my way, hurting the people that surrounded me, all so he could get to me, why did he want to kill me? Hurt me? Hurt the people I now loved? It was destroy or be destroyed.