The King of Caspian

Prologue

They say life is what you make it. That if you work hard enough and long enough, you'll be able to achieve your goals and dreams. Become the thing you have worked so hard to become.

But I've come to the conclusion that whoever 'they' are. They're full of shit.

Some may call me a bitter person who needs to learn how to look at the brighter things in life, but I call myself a realist.

Fate is a cruel bitch, and she really likes to mess with you when you're flying high. You can work as hard as you want for something and have goals and dreams. But when she decides to come knocking, it's game fucking over.

Now I wasn't always like this. I didn't always see the world as a mix of blurred lines filled with more takes than gives. But when your mate, the one person who is supposed to heal your soul and be excited to have you in their life, walks past you with a look of disdain etched on their face leaving you in a room full of people high and dry as they high tail it out there. Acting like you just ruined their entire life.

It changes a person.

Nothing really hardens a person like your heart getting ripped out of your chest like that in front of friends, family, and everyone else who was invited to a party, then being forced to act like it's just a regular fucking Tuesday.

So what if I'm a bitter person now, who wants nothing to do with love and throws themselves into work so that they don't give themselves a minute to think about how much it actually fucking sucks to be me.

At least I'm doing something, at least I'm moving on, and that is progress. Others may think it's unhealthy, but I don't give a shit about what they believe because they don't get it.

Frankly, I don't think anyone ever will. I've comes to terms with it. My mate hates me, and as much as it stings, I hate him too. And if I ever see him again, I'll make sure he knows it.