The Predator

I always hated mornings.

Even when I was a four-year-old—naive and curious little boy.

Waking up to the same damn world that never understood shit about me. The sunlight? It felt like a fucking burning light, burning through my skin, exposing every twisted thought I tried to keep hidden. Other kids—those little morons—laughing and running around like life was a goddamn fairy tale.

I watched them from the shadows, always disgusted and bothered by something I couldn’t understand.

I wasn’t like them. Never was. Never would be.

They were the worst. That’s when I had to play nice. Smile, nod, pretend to give a shit about their useless...