Laughing at the Rain

Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin' at the rain
A little out of touch
little insane
It's just easier than dealing with the pain

Runaway train never comin' back
Runaway train tearin' up the track
Runaway train burnin' in my veins
I run away
but it always stays the same

"So, what about me pisses you off?" I had asked Venor, staring at the ceiling tiredly. "That you have no hope," was his reply. "Hope? Hope for what?"

"For happiness. This guy has apparently hurt you enough, that you refuse to feel anything. What you can't drown in your work, you drink away."


Some days are not as bad as others. Some days I can drink away the hole inside of me. Some times I can forget, by immersing myself in work. But it's always there when I wake up in the morning, like a knife I can't remove. I miss him.

I didn't intend to start all the fires in the beginning. The first was a crime of passion. I had come home to find him gone. He took everything, including Nashoti and Sahara. In a rage I set the entirety of Novus Initium in flames. And then I stood there. I didn't know he was watching. A friend. I suppose in retrospect I'm glad he was. If he hadn't drug me out, forcibly and against my will, I would not be here now. I wanted to die. But he pulled me from the flames and out the back of the building. The smoke filled my lungs, I felt like they were on fire with every hacking cough.

Once I finally got my bearings, I slipped away. But Kyron caught me, just as the rest of the District started to go up in flames as well. He knew, and at the time I didn't care.

The second fire was purely to incite the General for his ill treatment of me. It was revenge. But soon I began to realize when I did these things, when I destroyed bits of the city, I forgot. And the fires too became something that purified, and cleared my head. It was an outlet, a channel, pouring all my grief into a rage that this city has never seen before.