"There are some problems that stay with you. Forever. You run and you run and you run... and then you run some more," he almost whispered the last words. "But they stay with you. And all you can do is pretend that it doesn't matter, that everything is alright; but at night, when you're tired and you can pretend no more and you're filled with this cold and grey emptiness... then, all you can do is numb your pain with whatever medicine you have. Some drink. Some put needles in their arms. I kill. It's what I do. It makes me feel alive."