Book Excerpts

Fighting became the only voice my pain knew. It was the outlet for years of anger and silent suffering, a storm I could finally unleash. In the darkness of my cell, I raged against fate itself. “God, why did you let me be born only to endure such misery? My heart should have stopped beating the moment I entered this world,” I spat into the silence, my fury a prayer and a curse all at once. Rage became my armor, and in its cold embrace, I forged a new identity—one shaped by bitterness and defiance. If my life was marked by suffering, then so be it; I would make sure the world felt my pain. And when the day came for me to walk free, I would carry this darkness with me, a menace forged in confinement. Maybe only death would be enough to stop me. Maybe then, God would have to reckon with the day He set me loose in this world.