Now before I begin, I must say, if you're looking for a romantic story with a happy ending I don't think this is where it's going. That being said I have no plan for this, for I like to be just as surprised as the people reading. Thank you, and enjoy. --- "Every great man is made up of failures to aid in his success." My father would tell me. This was when I was twelve-years-old, and he was still alive. He'd tell me that, as he sat a thirty-six-year-old, in an eighty-year-old body; with tubes running into his nose, and a bag of fluid dripping into his blood dream. I was so young then, but I understood what was happening, although not what everything was. But that was then, and this is now. I took his words to heart, and had many failures. As I sat in my rather extravagant office, drinking expensive red wine, I had little to worry about. I was well off and in the prime of my life now, living off his words and pushing myself to keep improving. Something always felt a little empty though. I don't have anyone besides my colleagues. My mother isn't dead, but she might as well be. One day I walked in early from school when it had been snowing, and the bus took us home before dismissal in order to assure our safety. There was a man there, in the bright living room, with white walls, white blinds, and white furniture. Although the blinds were shut, and the room took on a secretive and dark tone. Suddenly our bright and perky living room was something of a malicious nature. The tall Caucasian man sitting on the sofa was perfectly healthy, fit, and he wore rather expensive clothes. My father was in the hospital most days now, and usually my mother was alone. There she sat, in the lap of this fine looking gentlemen, smiling at him as though he was saving her from her untimely fate. The way my father looked at her, each visit, without exception. Every time he came home for the few days he had the strength, and every time she visited him, in his clean, white hospital bed. As he grew to weak to speak more than ten minutes at a time, my mother grew too impatient to love. The light left her eyes, and her once bright blue eyes seemed to dim to a deep ocean blue. She eventually stopped visiting, and my father called; day after day, only for me to answer. She sat locked away, in her bedroom, alone and sinking deeper into the abyss of depression. Not that day though. She was happily looking at this man as if she was new and happy. Part of me wanted to be happy for her, but most of me felt betrayed on behalf of my father for her unfaithfulness and disloyalty. I never saw her again after that. She disappeared, and with time so did everyone else. I kept to myself and went through my education, eventually going to law school and establishing my career as a successful lawyer. Although it wasn't as glorious as it sounds. I was astonishingly good at my job, and quickly developed a good reputation. I sit on six digits in my bank account at my lowest, and all because I helped the worst kind of people get away with murder, domestic violence, and other atrocities that shouldn't go unpunished. I make success out of denying good people justice, and giving the monsters of nature the freedom they don't deserve. --- Wow I spun everywhere I'm so sorry but here. Tell me if you like it. If you don't it was pretty random so I don't really need to continue if you would prefer me not to. Lol