My days went on in a haze, trying to find an answer, trying to conjure up a solution, trying to search my mind for any groups of people that can help with my mission, but to no avail. I had spent years of solitude that stood in the way of my cause, so instead, I spent a while alone, cooped up in my tiny haven. A ton of questions plagued my mind with no apparent answer on the horizon, so I had only one escape left: a box of rum bottles I found years ago. I started with the first cup, but found no answers in the bottom of it, so I poured another one, and another, until I was finally numb enough. Then, there was a knock on the door. I went to answer, but it broke, revealing none other than Ben who held a knife to my throat.
