Stained, smeared with sins and muds of his own blood. His family? Gone. His friends? Also gone. His uncle?....Do not mention that monster. He took his angel. He killed his one and only friend. He killed his dreams. He stained his body. He hurt his body. Every touch, every cigarette put out on his skin. Every glass shard skimming over the bleeding scratches, every single pad of that monster's fingers holding him. It was disgusting. It was unfair. And so, what did Law do? He killed him. He dragged his body along the floor, left him to rot.

Losing his only hope to survive, his diner, because of some bitchy, impatient customers, he decided to end it, to end himself...failing. One more time. One more try.

Petshop. Nice, right? No. It reminded of his sweet angel. His dog. Puddle. The only friend he had. The only friend that monster laid a hand on. And the only friend that monster laughed at the mention of it's name.

He couldn't take it. But a day off...Good. Nice. Must go fine. He went to a picnic first. His stalker, or 'date', watched behind the bushes. Then to the shopping mall. Getting ready, he got a gift. Sliding the lid off the box...oh, oh goodness. Pieces of flesh and inners, blood dripping out the box. The stalker called after, asking if he liked it...He was forced to go out. Returning, he was afraid to go out again. To go out for the date. But he was forced to. The creep called again. He yelled, demanding him to open the door. And dragging him out to the street, the creep pinned him down, raising the knife...

But, one more thing. You were there. Passing by, on your way to wherever you were going. And that was when you stepped in. Quickly calling the police, you got the creep off him and took him to a safe place, your place, letting him relax. He looked so scared...Inside, he just felt...dirty. Stained. He looked down, hugging his knees to his chest as he hid his face, clutching his skin on his back.