Kaden Graham Harrison.
His world is home to billionaires, future presidents, models and children of diplomats.
People who had the power to rule the world before they were even born. He can buy himself everything with the snap of his fingers.
Booze...
I hope you had a great day today and if not, I promise you there will be better times.
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Tragedy.
An event causing great suffering, destruction, and distress, such as a serious accident, crime, or natural catastrophe.
One of many definitions in our wide world of philosophy and thinking.
I would put my signature under this but I will add the part where no one can look away. There will still be attentive, lustful eyes on even the most gruesome scene.
The moments in front of me could count as such. Blood, wounds, or even signs of torture on a body have never bothered me, as strange as it may sound. I was always aware of the dark places the world beholds. Many advised me I should become a surgeon as I have always had a strong sense of concern for others at the same time.
At least I thought this until I laid my eyes on a man beating another till he was lying on the floor, spitting blood, choking on it. My shame overrides me as I feel compelled to stop what is happening. But I know I have no power and I would only embarrass myself, by being stopped before blinking twice.
I look around, coming across faces, begging for the pain of others, and as bile rises in my throat something inside of me strikes to live. Thousands around me watch this scene. My heart pounds as another punch follows and I would bet my life on it that if the crowd didn't scream their lungs out and the sick pounding in my head didn't torture me I could hear every bone in his face cracking. His face falls to my side, almost in slow motion, almost as if the movement must draw my attention because only then does it matter. Angry red veins burst open, his face covered in so much blood, no imagination could make out a human façade anymore.
It is my dream to become an actor, and I am preparing myself for settings of horror, crime, and gore that are part of my job description. I hope to someday bring terror to people worse than anyone before me did. I watched crime documentaries, and I reflected on every film I found that so many before voted as the worst of them all. However, seeing this man, this stranger on this harsh, almost beaten-up floor... makes me understand that I am not aware of anything.
Blood is oozing out of his face.
Could it be his eyes or his nose? So much blood.
Suddenly, the smile, the white shining teeth-or at least the broken stumps-takes my attention away from the red.
I naturally take a step back as the man pushes himself up again, as if lying on the ground and being beaten gave him another dose of adrenaline. Opening a biology or psychology book would easily tell you that, but nobody truly believes how powerful fear is.
