He's already deathly depressed. Enemies everywhere, The girl he loves Walks though hallways as if Life is perfect. She's so naive. Some fucking jock Strolls by, Without a care In the world. "Hey asshole. You're gonna Die alone." 2:47 am. He's awake, The jocks words Scrolling though his mind. Gun in hand. A single bullet. Turns the revolver. Russian roulette. A game of chance, Hope, Luck, Death. Missed shot. Another bullet shoved Into the gun, Drives the car Straight through her Window. Who the hell will care. He rushes To her side. She's alive, But shaken. Good, he thinks. First shot. She's dead. Last word adressed To the jock. "Wrong". Second shot. He didn't die alone.

Stupid, Stupid Boy. You said you Wanted me. Being with you was The biggest mistake Of my life. Saying you'd love me Forever. That's Fucking bullshit, And you know it. Stupid, Stupid Boy.

After she's done, She gets up to To the house She wishes wasn't Home. Except this time, The man keeps Her in the car. For no reason whatsoever, He kills her. She had no friends, No family. No funeral was held. No obituary was in the paper. No one was there To take care of her baby. High school kids had Warned her. An old friend from The eighth grade however, Had been looking after her, Praying she didn't get hurt. She keeps the child And he grows up As any other child would. But it's far from a Fairytale ending.

She walks down The road, Waiting for the usual Friday night buisness. Sure enough, He comes, Hands her $30, And a blow job later, He leaves. Next in line. A new customer. She thinks "One more and Maybe I can afford Rent and new clothes For my baby." This man Walks up, And hands her $30.

High heeled shoes, Blue eye makeup, Short skirts, Thongs, See-through tops, Condoms in her hand, And an unwanted child. She's the one Who chose to be a slut. All through high school, People would pass her In the hallways, And make jokes about Her promiscuous behavior.

He says "My life is over, Because my son Ended his. I just feel like I'm gonna explode with rage, sadness, and anger towards the world." Just because of the one day. His son was on drugs and alcohol, and everyone knew it. Autopsy said 'unknown', but it everyone knew it was a suicide. Torn apart, He can't focus, Can't return to normal Life. Don't you see up There in Heaven What you've done To your father? R.I.P. Phillip 2/23/07

He's sitting in Trial, Awaiting the jury's Decision. Staring at each of Their faces, He silently pleads To be set free. But his track Record isn't good. "We, the jury, Hereby declare the Defendant Guilty of all three counts of Arson, And the second Degree murder Of both of his Parents."

He doesn't call 911. His parents are home, But only when the fire Reaches their bedroom Door do they smell The smoke. They're trapped. He gets out, And watches flames Engulf the house He once lived in. It burns down. He didn't know His parents Were still inside.

He lights a candle. Just one, He doesn't want Anything To happen. After all, His whole life (Including his Parent's lives) Is here. So he remembers The two times He's set a house On fire. The gorgeous flames... He can't stop Himself now. He flings the candle At the fabric curtain.

He's always loved Fire. The way it looks, Feels, Smells, Just everything About it. But, He's been Charged with arson Twice. He's a Pyromaniac.