The Day She Cried — K. Webster

She was my first love.
She was my first hate.
The very sun in my world tried to burn me alive with her lies and cruelty.
Until I dimmed her light for good…
Or so I thought.

Now she's back.
Cracked. Broken. Lost.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel free.
Free from our past. Free from my present that suffocates me. Free to destroy her future.

Her misery is my music.
Thrilling. Invigorating. Intoxicating.

For so long, all I've done is hate her.
So why do I love her?