CAIN JOURNAL ENTRY
I don't feel as though I could ever let myself believe that I'm a good person. I crossed the threshold into a darker world the moment my mother stole her own life. Yet, part of me is resistant. I know that I do not deserve many of the cards I have been dealt, while I have earned some as I soured in this vacant sector of Hell. In fact, the one place I can call home is a large alleyway in Rockview, this bleak city riddled with slums. As one can easily imagine, an alleyway does not bode well for the turbulently weathered area. The local buildings are inhabited or condemned; sometimes both. The only other choice presented has not seen any light of praise. There are facilities for the homeless amongst us, but the truth has been twisted into an unintelligible mess wrought of fact and fiction. Some dare compare it to a concentration camp. It becomes difficult to discern reality. You may find that I deliver the voice of pessimism, but pessimism is the voice of the world. When the world is battered into silence, we must speak for it. We "parahumans", or demons as is preferred to the public, should not be dragged into violence daily. I want a nonviolent solution. I can only hope that Adam is wrong. I wish I had a god to pray to.
-Cain
-Cain