When I was younger I used to believe that I should die, that I deserved to die but now... now I've realized that if I die, I'll finally be at peace. I definitley don't deserve that. I deserve to rot in hell and be tortured every second that I still breathe. To burn in the flames of destruction. Death would only mean one thing to me. Free of fire. Every second that I breathe is as much torture that I can give myself without getting too carried away and finish the job. I long for the shame and guilt of those innocent lives to have finally dragged me to my grave, but as soon as my heart stops, I would be free of all these cold chains of remorse. I earned the right to feel cold with the pain.