Sometimes I wonder why humanity bothers. To be kind, and caring for others. Because, in the end, we all end up dying or killing those around us.
Take me for example, I tried all my life to protect those around me, and in the end, it was that very doting, that very care which killed them. When they were taken from me and left to fend for themselves, children, merely youngsters who had circled the moon but twenty five times- they could not. And I was made to watch, tied up within the castle of the very man whom I had sought to proctect them from, made to watch their squinting in the harsh daylight, fumbling around on twigs and dirt, testing the berries in colours as poisonous as their taste. And it was I who did this all along.
If I ever escape- when I escape, the only way to save them- the only way I could possibly guarentee their survival, is to show them the harsh ways of the world, and through force, retract every kind memory of me they possibly have, until they know nought but the cold, inhumane cycle of death, torture, and yet more death.