Prologue

     “Keep your enemies close, keep your friends closer.”I don't think that's what Machiavelli said, but it is exactly what happened to me. I mean how on earth could you entirely despise the person that is really close to you. They might be a drug dealer or a corrupt politician, but what if they were your child?
     Or father?
     Mother?
     Best friend or spouse?
     They whose support you in a difficult time, one who you spend much time together on, a figure you know that would not harm you, vice versa?

     For years I wonder why some people could not resist the urge of telling their shameful stories, what kind of response did you expect? Just for the laugh? Is it really worth the price? Keep in mind, that piece of information could be used against you someday. I didn't pray for your relationship to be falling apart, but in case they are would it be nice if you are at least on the winning side or, to be more realistic, losing less?
     You can't even wear them like badges, except if you are despairingly low to use something infamous to makes you stand out from the crowd. If you are known only for your shameful deed, soon everyone will recognize you as the embodiment of shame itself. Living like that is nothing but pure hell.

     And here I am, monologuing myself yet asking you a bunch of questions, questions that you shouldn't bother to answer, I can't hear it anyway. Cleary I'm not trying to make you laugh nor be proud of what happened to me.
     Any responses would be worthless for me.
     What could I do with them?
     It's all too late for me.
     Too late.
     Way too late.
     ...
     ..
     .
     Regret.
     Dissatisfaction.
     Stupidity.
     I don't know what to say.
     It's far too conflicting.
     I can't even make a logical reason why I tell you this story.
     And yet.
     I want to tell you everything.
     To you.
     To nothingness.
     ...
     Whatever.
     Why don't we get to the point aren't we? It's meaningless anyway, blabbering without a particular point I mean.

     This gang.
     Hmm...no, this group.
     No, no, no, too broad...
     Organization... yeah, might be too formal but this is the closest term that I could get.
     Either way, this "organization" came out of nowhere with no warning, no pre-appearance, no debut, no nothing. Suddenly everyone talking about it. Even thunder could be expected when the sky filled with black clouds and even then it probably will only hit a lightning rod.
     I'm not trying to be ironic but it's the only example that could explain the situation easily, I just like using real-life events as an example, nothing more nothing less. I mean, of course, you have seen lighting right? I'm not even talking about how they were created scientifically. If I can explain it to 6 years old why bother using a stranger event? Yes, I'm pretty aware that no 6 years old will read this book, they'll give up on the end of the first paragraph. I tried to express my feelings through this book, I'm sure not all of you will understand and see me as a sane person at the end of this book, not to mention a 6 year old. However, I can guarantee you that       I'm still sane, just not sure how.
     Oh yeah, what do I mean by ironic you ask?
     On that stormy day in the middle of the city black cloud fills the sky as it should be, lighting hits lighting rods as usual followed by a loud bang, except that one bang doesn't precede with a flash from the cloud.
     On that day a prime minister was found lying on the ground.
     Never to be rose again.