It seens that I appear to be stuck in my own mind. Trapped perhaps, in this horrible thought process of mine. Been locked up in a cage of hatred towards myself. What was it that I had done for a concequence like this one? Seeking answers never given. Searching for clues never placed. But like a maze, found a reason to keep walking till freedom was found at last. But no, not in this case. Yes I did find the exit to this maze and I had a reason to do so. However freedom was not a reward. It was much more than that. It was an answer to all that had been questioned. An answer to a prayer laid to rest. A message in a bottle reached me, as it was read a smile drawn upon my face. No smile had meant more than the one drawn that instant. Drawn, in fact, by an artist himself. Never had I called myself to bear such beautiful smile but he, had drawn it with the hands of an artist a genious. An artist whose canvas was a human body, the skin of those who craved that sting in return for a memory. A work of art. This artist managed to draw the most incredible smile upon my face that I had ever laid eyes on. Impressive I must admit. But how was said artist capable of this? With words painted in the back of my mind as he spoke, bursts of joy flew. An artist who once loved this selfish being and who had permanently drawn her name on his own personal canvas with a beating heart. An artist she calls superman.