Prologue:

When you’re a child, you’re told a lot of things. As you grow older, you have to make your own observations and judge for yourself.

The amount of people who are lying to you is really amazing, when you recognize it. There are times when the most observant kids start wondering whether or not the sky is really blue, or whether it’s just another lie.

You watch those who are more intelligent wonder why they even bother lying to you; why they even bother getting to the subjects that they could easily avoid. This is when you realize: they’re trapped in their own delusions. They actually believe what’s being said and they believe that they’re comforting you.

They don’t believe that you’ll be staring at them later on, wondering why you were screwed over so much by people who’d acted like they cared.

People tell you that everything always turns out okay, but they don’t. The truth is that you can keep going and going until you think you’ve reached rock bottom. You’re then trapped in your own delusions that things can’t get any worse, and you finally realize that you’ve really only hit a ledge in the fall. As soon as you’ve worked it out, then you fall again and really do think that you hit rock bottom, and it’s unpleasant.

You’ve been stuck on 'rock bottom' for as long as you can remember, staring hopelessly at those who’d promised to help you, crying while they happily ignored you.

People tell you that if you’re intelligent, you’ll really make something of yourself. You’ll really become somebody important.

Nobody has ever thought to tell you that becoming somebody meant that you have to do something good.

The lies that sting the most, though, are when people say they care when they really don’t – when people lie to look good or responsible. Broken promises also hurt a lot – particularly if the promises are for your own protection.

You see a universe and you see yourself, separated. You see the differences and you see the delusions that everybody else seems fixated upon. You stand and you brush away your tears: you think you’re too big to cry.

You secretly want to scream and grab at your parents, but they still seem to be living in Happy-Clappy-Land. They think that you exagerrate and say, 'of course, dear'.

You aren't exaggerating.

You scream and cry and stomp your foot on the ground until your throat is raw, your cheeks are puffy and you can barely lift your feet. Nobody comes: you’re alone in the world. While you break, they all stand and live in bliss in their fairy tale land where everyone else is living in peace and bliss.

The world isn’t a fairy tale – things go wrong and bad things happen. That’s life.

You have no authority. You can’t stand up and speak. You have no support. You’re alone with the people who have hurt you for as long as you can remember and will quite happily continue to do so.

You’re only fourteen years old.

You want power. You want significance. You want revenge. You want justice.

Nobody ever gives you what you want.

You feel the strain of everything and feel as if you are being doused in gasoline, and then you eventually ignite. You don’t feel the pain through thin clothes: you’re used to the pain. You want to fling the fire at your tormentors, but mental states aren’t weapons.

Your fire doesn’t go out. You don’t care. You scrape your way through every day, staring under your nails where there’s dirt and blood that only you can see.

In a few months, you go through more than you’ve been through in your entire life. You slip further down the bottomless pit, no longer passing climbers. You’re long past anyone else’s misery.

You’re now in total isolation. You feel like you’re another species, staring at all the bright, upbeat people.

Eventually, you break.

In this fragile mental state, you seem no different than normal, if not a little more tearful. You smile with watery eyes at people and they ignore it. They’re too good for you.

You still cope… until the day that changes everything for ever; until the day you become something.

The irony of the matter is that makes you slip down even further, and that’s when you know that you’ve just gone and willingly jumped straight into Hell.

You know this is the time to create your raging inferno. You do not disappoint.