The music was empty—hollow beats bouncing off hollow
walls and hollow lyrics filling the hollows of my ears. Maybe it was what I
needed; I wished I could enjoy the numbness that was
washing over the rest of my friends. The pain was too deep; the guilt was too
vast. And the fear! It was one thing to fear the police or the factions… This mafia-esque
lifestyle was built on fear; I’d known that when I’d gone searching for
answers. The real fear was that I’d already found my answer and this was all
there was. But, I was in too deep for that to matter; no matter how many bodies
I saw, how many children I failed to save, how many friends I lost, or how much
blood stained my own hand. I took an oath—the music couldn’t erase that.