((Ta-Da He had always known that he would die young. There had never been a doubt in his mind that someday his job would kill him. He didn't mind, though, because he also knew that when he did die, nobody would really care. Maybe his mother would grieve for a day, but by the end of the night, she would be over it. She didn't really care about her son. Never had. She was constantly reminding him how much pain he had caused her, how much time she had wasted carrying him because, for some strange reason, he had refused to die. And now, as he lay bloody and beaten on the pine needles, he knew this was true. He would die here, 16 years old, alone and
((yupyup..))