Prologue

PROLOGUE
People could never understand the culprit that society is. The infesting disease of labels, cliques, and god knows what else people make up. I find truth more in music, more in things that make sense. Like chaos, destruction, predominant themes I seem to undergo. A more broad term would be Anarchy.

"I never said it would be easy, Cole."
"I never expected it to be." I shot back at my 'friend'. "The hell would you know about what it's like? Your mom gives you everything and your dad treats you like a damn princess." Hurt warps her face. Should I care? No.
She judged me. She laid out I was a self-destructive home-wrecker. And if I am it shouldn't bother her. Yet it does.
"And to think I loved you." I continue coldly. "You cheated on me with that heartless person you use to say you hated. Yeah, I never expected to keep you longer than a day, but here we are. Six long months later. Go back to your lover, you're not mine."
"But Cole-" She says in a strained voice.
"Go!" I snap. "You thought you could waltz into my life and fix me?!"
"No, I never--"
My blood was growing cold, the rage and hurt suffocating my mind. I didn't want to hurt her, but the ache in my chest kept nagging at my will. Eating it like a parasite. I wanted to see her cower, tremble, and tell me what I meant to her. What I really meant.
"Never thought of me?" I accused. "Like you even care enough to think of me! You sure as hell didn't last night!" I rose to my feet, the chair knocking back.
The house was empty. I had her to myself.
"Cole, please!" She begged. "Let me explain!"
"That it wasn't what it ''looked'' like?" I draw closer, her face paling more as I did. She was afraid. "I told you Eliza, My eyes never deceive me. And guess what?"
She kept quiet, backing up.
"Guess what?" I shout, grabbing her upper-arm.
She flinches, squeaking out, "W-what?"
"I saw you climbing over that w***e, f*****g her like she was your everything." I growl in her face. "So don't tell me she isn't. Don't tell me you love me then go and do things like that! Am I nothing to you?!"
She shakes her head, her green eyes wet and her voice failing as she tries to say 'no'. She sickens me. But what crawled in my veins was no longer hurt, it was a blinding rage. For what sat on her finger, was not our promise ring, but her ex's. It looked new, inscribed on the band was 'always and forever', something I spoke of only to her.
I never imagined myself as a "violent" type. In fact that night was the first time I ever laid a hand on another person. She ran, like in the movies: stunned and unsure what to do. And I...I just stepped back, turned away and put even further distance between us.
The shame and guilt that followed slammed onto my shoulders, leaving me to do what my parents had done best for me, curse myself.

How could she?