You know, years ago, I gave the key to you.
My key.
Back then, you kept me in check, even if you did not realize it. Then as the years went by, I forgot that the key remained with you. I pretended that it was mine again to give. And delusionally I made myself believe I gave the key away to several other people.
Maybe that was why it never felt real when they gave it back.
Granted, they never kept it for long, but I made myself believe that they were responsible for keeping me in check, since I had given them the key.
But it was always you.
And I finally realized, remembered, that the key was in your possession, when (ironically) it ceased to be.
That was the day you threw it back at me.
You did not throw it with purpose, rather, I believe that you did not realize you were throwing anything at all.
There was no force behind it.
But the fact that it was the REAL key, made it hurt.
The key is with me now. And you are no longer keeping my morality in check after all these years.
Therefore, my morality (or lack of it) demands that I destroy the only key that grants entrance to my heavily guarded fortress while I have the chance. Before I give it away again.
That fortress of mine? There are no footsteps within but my own.
You had the key.
But you never entered.
Now no one ever will.
