1 Alexander Todd

Stepping out of those imposing gates, a mixture of emotions swirled within me. The guard's farewell lingered in the air, a reminder of the journey ahead. As I walked away, the weight of the prison years slowly lifted, replaced by a tentative sense of optimism.

"7990, now that you're free, stay out of trouble," the guard's words carried a hint of warmth, a departure from the usual stern demeanor. I nodded, a silent promise to myself as much as to him.

As I ventured further, the reality of my situation sank in. No one awaited me on the other side, no familiar faces or open arms. It stung, but I couldn't say I was surprised. The path I'd chosen had isolated me, leaving me to face the consequences alone.

Yet, amidst the loneliness, there was a glimmer of determination. I refused to let the past define me any longer. I yearned for redemption, for a chance to prove that I was more than my mistakes.

The memories of prison still haunted me, the monotony of routine, the constant tension hanging in the air. But they also served as a reminder of how far I'd come. Each day behind those walls had been a battle, a struggle to hold onto hope when all seemed lost.

Now, as I stood on the threshold of freedom, I vowed to make every moment count. I longed to reconnect with the world outside, to savor the simple joys I'd taken for granted. And though the road ahead was uncertain, I faced it with a newfound sense of resilience, ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead.

As I pondered the absence of my family, a bitter taste filled my mouth. Five long years, and not a single visit from my parents. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut—they had likely disowned me long ago, casting me aside without a second thought.

Hope flickered faintly when I considered my siblings, but deep down, I knew better than to rely on them. They were as unreliable as the shifting sands, never there when I needed them most.

Extended family? They might as well have been strangers for all the support they offered. Their disdain for me was palpable, a fact that stung with every passing day of my incarceration.

The irony wasn't lost on me. All those years of striving for perfection, of chasing their approval, only to be met with silence and indifference. I had poured my heart and soul into everything I did, only to be met with rejection and abandonment.

It was laughable, really. The absurdity of it all threatened to overwhelm me. What had I been fighting for all this time? What had I sacrificed so much for when it meant nothing at all?

But amidst the bitterness and despair, a fire ignited within me. I had already lost everything—what more did I have to fear? Their rejection only fueled my determination to prove them wrong, to rise above their disdain and carve out a future on my own terms.

A better one.

As I boarded the bus into town, the weight of my sentence stayed behind me, replaced by a steely resolve. The road ahead may be uncertain, but I faced it with a sense of purpose, ready to seize the opportunities that awaited and to exact my own brand of justice.

As the bus rumbled down the road, I couldn't shake the sense of disbelief that washed over me. The world outside the prison walls felt surreal, almost too vibrant and alive to be real. I pressed my face against the cool window, drinking in the sights that blurred past—the bustling streets, the towering buildings, the endless expanse of sky stretching overhead.

Every passing mile felt like a victory, a small triumph in my journey towards freedom. The wind whispered through the cracked window, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning.

For the first time in years, I felt truly alive. The weight of the past fell away, replaced by a buoyant sense of possibility. I relished the simple pleasures of the bus ride—the gentle sway of the vehicle, the chatter of fellow passengers, the ever-changing scenery outside.

Each passing moment brought with it a renewed sense of wonder, a reminder of the countless opportunities that awaited me beyond the confines of my former life. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a world brimming with potential and promise.

Gazing at my reflection in the window, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. Gone was the soft, innocent demeanor that had once earned me plenty of praise. In its place stood a young man I hardly recognized.

My eyebrows were now furrowed in a perpetual scowl, a testament to the anger and frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. The faint crook in my nose, a memento from a past altercation, served as a stark reminder of the violence that had defined so much of my life.

But it was my eyes that held the most striking transformation. Once bright and expressive, they now burned with a wild, untamed intensity. There was a darkness lurking within them, a hint of madness that unnerved even me. It was as if they were windows into a soul teetering on the edge of sanity.

And then there was the scar, a jagged line etched across my eyebrow as a permanent reminder of my past. It spoke volumes, telling a story of defiance and resistance, of battles fought and wounds endured.

As I studied my reflection, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness. This was not the person I had once been, not the innocent boy who had dreamed of a free life.

I looked like a fucking psycho now, especially when I smile.

As the bus trundled on, I closed my eyes and let myself bask in the feeling of freedom, savoring every precious moment of this newfound liberation. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I was free to chart my own course, to embrace the future with open arms and a heart full of hope. And as the bus journey continued, I knew that this was only the beginning of a journey that held infinite possibilities.

As I stepped off the bus into the bustling town, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swept through me. Part of me yearned to confront my parents, to show them that I had not only survived but thrived despite their abandonment. But another part hesitated, unsure if I was ready to face their reaction, unsure if I even wanted them to know I was still alive.

The mere thought of their shocked expressions brought a mischievous smile to my lips, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly to myself. Beside me, a lady gasped, her eyes widening in alarm. I tried to reassure her with a smile, but she scurried away as if I were some kind of monster.

I couldn't help but find the situation absurd. Despite my petite stature and relatively harmless appearance, it seemed my time behind bars had left an indelible mark, casting me as some kind of menacing figure in the eyes of strangers.

Shaking my head in amusement, I pushed the thought aside. There were more pressing matters at hand than worrying about the perceptions of strangers.

As I contemplated my next move, a devious smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. I knew all too well the skeletons lurking in my family's closets, secrets they would do anything to keep hidden. But I held the key to their downfall, a potent arsenal of information that could shatter their carefully constructed facades.

My mother's extravagant lifestyle funded by ill-gotten gains would be the first to unravel. The revelation of her misuse of charity donations and pension funds would surely send shockwaves through the community, tarnishing her reputation irreparably.

Next in line was my father, a master of deception whose fraudulent dealings would crumble under the weight of scrutiny. His scams and embezzlement would not only spell disaster for him but also threaten to bring down the very company he had built on deceit.

And then there was my sister, willing to sacrifice anything for financial gain, including her integrity and fertility. The exposure of her deceitful tactics and barrenness would surely repel any potential suitors, leaving her isolated and vulnerable.

Finally, my older brother's double life would be laid bare for all to see. His philandering ways and abandonment of his familial responsibilities would strip away the facade of respectability, leaving him exposed as the hypocrite he truly was.

With each revelation, I could almost taste the sweet satisfaction of revenge. But as tempting as it was to unleash the full extent of their transgressions, I knew that patience would be key. I would bide my time, carefully orchestrating their downfall until the moment was ripe for their inevitable reckoning.

They would all be begging for forgiveness on their knees when I was done with them.