Being an assassin isn't easy. Always said to be cold-hearted, well, which isn't a lie, although some of us do it to live.

The blood on my hand, the scars on my face, they don't have a reason to not be called brave.

I want to live, I want to be free, but how can I be free when I'm chained in my knees?

I can't run, the knife chases me, makes me take it in my hand and doesn't give anyone mercy. It feels so bad, but it seems so good in my life, I can't do anything about it.

I feel arms wrapping around my waist. It's my girlfriend.

"Mmh?"