They call me a monster, look at me in distain. I can feel it, the way everyone thinks I am beneath them. They think they are better than me, better people. But I know that we are all the same. I see it when they are crying, screaming at each other. I give them a choice, they could all die as decent human being or they could live. And they do live, live with the knowledge that they paid for their life with the life of another. A loved one. They say love exists, I know the only love there is in the end is no love at all, it is the need to survive. To save their own skin. It doesn’t matter, that they are smashing the head of the person they just told hours before that they loved them. Who cares about little trivialities like love when your own life could end any second. Some of them cry, they are horrified and regret what they have done. I don’t. I do not regret a thing, because I know these people are not better than me. I know the next time they see a monster, they will see it in the mirror.