He couldn’t sleep, it was six A.M. now and all he could do is stare out the window. The air had gotten cold, the only reason he knew was because his breath was floating in the air, taunting him, reminding him he was still alive. Every time a car passed by the headlights would fill the apartment with disquieting shadows. His face was pressed against the window, his sunken eyes searching the barren streets for signs of life. He wasn’t expecting to see anything but it murdered time rather well.
He started thinking about his father, the psychotic bastard that raised him. One night he brutally murdered his wife, with his son watching no less. Of course, Sid was young and frightened then, but not anymore, everyday he contemplates the horrible things he’ll do to that man. He still remembers his face same sunken eyes, same black stringy hair, same murderous look in his eyes. Sid hated mirrors, every time he looks in one he sees that bastard staring back at him.
The night he killed his wife he left the home, Sid was completely alone, he was nine at the time. Eleven years, for eleven years he had to fend for himself, he learned to fight, to kill, to hide. He had a friend who taught him how to read and write, he was taught the importance of laying low, playing it cool. Had it not been for his father he wouldn’t be the man he is today, he might’ve even been normal. “I’m going to kill you one day” he said to himself, he didn’t know if it was true but it also slaughtered time mercilessly.
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