The last flight.

What now, daddy?

No, I know you can't help me...

But how I wish it were possible!

I am a prisoner of myself, of my actions, I know that I must pay for this and, by God... I am paying!

What now, Daddy?

Where are you?

How can I get there? Don't come to me, or I might infect you, I'm unclean, I'm a filthy and terminally ill person.

I died, Daddy!

And it is the worst death possible, my blood still runs pulsating through my veins, but it is not my heart that drives it, but this terrible curse.

And you know, Daddy, it's not fear, nor the pain of torn flesh that torments me, but rather the contempt of the one I love so much...

Do I love?

Did I love it?

Maybe if I really loved I wouldn't be this monster.

Goodbye, Daddy!

Erase these words from your heart, do not let them torment you; Your son has dishonored your memory.

Your son does not deserve your blessings!

I have thought a lot and a lot about shortening my sad and infamous passage through this purgatory.

Cowardice still stops me from flying...

But my flight is booked.

And the pain goes on and on and on and on...