End Transmission

Games.
Lies.
Charades.
Betrayal.
This doesn't make a family.
It doesn't make a home.
It changes everything.
It ruins people.
Power.
It's the root of all evil.
But you have no power over me.
I'm breaking these forbidding chains.
Greed.
Attention.
Pretending.
Well, I'm done.
I can't be blamed for this; you know that.
And it makes you fear.
I see your mask crumbling with each lie that I uncover.
The truth shall set you free?
No.
The truth shall bury you beneath its weight.
It shall suffocate you, along with every game you've played.
Along with every script you thought up.
Along with every act of betrayal and treason.
You shall answer for your sins.
For the wicked you've done.
For any wrong you can't make right.
You will watch.
As your world collapses, you cannot look away.
Even when the sugar and spice melts to reveal your ugly insides. . .
You must keep your gaze upon the face in the mirror.
Then you'll realise your mistakes.
You'll try to repent, beg for mercy.
But who's there to hear you?
To answer your desperate prayers?
No one.
Not one living soul will heed your cries for help.
We'll watch you drown in the boiling current.
We'll offer no lending hand.
Freedom.
Salvation.
Game over.
End transmission