1 Prologue | Livid reality

I'd always wondered why in every story, there was an antagonist present. A force or a person who harbored hatred and despised the protagonist with all he/she had even when they never really knew the protagonist aside from the malicious image they'd created in their minds.

Then I wondered who the real antagonist was in my story. I thought long and hard about it like my life depended on the knowledge, like I had some superpower or motive to take down whoever the person or people were. But I'd discovered that maybe it was possible to be free from an antagonist in your story, especially when you were the antagonist, the initiator of the evil, the one who harbored unnecessary hatred towards someone you didn't know at all.

I was in fact the antagonist to someone who wondered why I hated them or didn't even know I did. I had my revelation of this while I stood at the quarry on that unforgettable night, a blood-stained knife within my grasp as I watched the trail of blood that led into the dried out well.

I could hear the siren from behind me, the reflection of my shadow shrouded by the red and blue lights that constantly flared as the cop cars eased into the clearing.

I was perplexed, unmoving.

I forgot what and who I was for a second. My thoughts were jumbled up as I questioned how I had gotten to the position I was in. Was this how evil I was? How had I gotten to point where I couldn't even discern between good and evil clearly? All it had taken was my anger and a few drinks to urge me to commit an act I had never imagined possible.

I could hear the cops yelling something at me, their voices echoing like a distant cry I couldn't quite make out. I held the knife tighter as I brought it slowly to my wrists as the answer to my previous question echoed in my mind.

I hadn't discovered who the antagonist was because it was in fact myself. I am my own adversary, that's why I had allowed myself to sink so low I couldn't recognize who I had become.

Then it would be good to end it all. I needed to rid me from myself so I let the knife slip from my grasp, clattering to the floor as I swiveled slowly on my heels towards the cops who picked up their steady pace as they noticed the deep gashes that'd been made on both my wrists.

I offered them a smile as I sank to the floor, the vibrant and vivid colors of the scenery dulling as my vision gave way to darkness.