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[Pride ~ excessive belief in one's own abilities, that interferes with the individual's recognission of the grace of God. Has been called the sin from which all others arise]

Sometimes the people you love are those that sins the most.

And sometimes you see the sins more easily when you live up close with someone for year after year.

That's what happened here.

I've spent the last nine years living with him. Talking to him. Singing with him. Breathing the same sir as him. And I've even slept with him. Once.

During all this time, I have seen his good sides, and I have seen his bad.

The bad side is what sticks out in my mind though, what makes me want to throw up every time I think about it.

I've lived with him for so long, that all I can see now is his sins.

He sins a lot, more than you think.

But there is one sin that is worse than the lying and the cheating. There is one sin he rules, one sin he seems to own, one sin he breaks every day.

He has too much pride.

He believes that he is the best in everything.

It is good to think that way in our business, I suppose. But somewhere you have to draw the line, and he crossed that a very long time ago.

He is a good singer, yet he believes he is the very best.

He'll tell me how to sing my lines, how to dance, and how to speak. He'll try and run my life, make me more like him.

He believes too much in his own abilities, believes he got where he is today because of what he himself has done.

That is not true. We got here as a group, and not just because of him.

And above all else, we are here because God put us here.

I know I said I am not that religious, but I do believe everything happens for a reason. We are where we are because that is what God had planned for us.

We are not here because that is what he had planned.

He is a sinner, breaks at least one sin a day.

Always one, always a capital one, and I always remember.

I remember them all. And I remember he didn't use to be like this.

Back in the days he believed we did what we did because God wanted it, and because we worked well together as a group. He used to believe we got here together. Now he thinks that he alone is the reason. I don't like that, and I made him see that he was wrong.

In the end, they all find out that they are wrong.

He was perhaps the one who was most surprised.

The way he looked at me with those brown eyes of his, as I removed his sunglasses and tied him to the bed.

He thought I wanted to sleep with him, but he soon found out I had other plans.

That's when he too started to scream.

They always scream, but it never helps.

I wanted him to see where his pride had taken him, so I cut off all the things that are his pride.

I started with his tattoos.

One by one I sliced them off, holding them up so he could see.

I had to sit on top of him to keep him from moving too much. After all, I didn't want to cut too deep. That could have killed him before it was time.

That would have been bad.

One by one I sliced them off, and one by one he got to see where his pride has gotten him.

When I was done with his tattoos, I started with his hair.

He loves that too. Loves to change it's styles every other week. He loves to experiment with it, and he loves to play with it. He's funny that way.

I took it all away, cutting it with the knife, cutting into his skull, as if I were scalping him.

I had to wipe away the blood that ran down his face and into his eyes. After all, I wanted him to see what I was doing.

Then, when all that was gone as well, I turned to his penis.

His pride, his joy, his little baby.

I cut it off fast, and placed it in his mouth, before I got off the bed and stood up, staring into his eyes.

I kissed his eyelids, before I whispered a soft goodbye into his ear.

Then I left him there alone.

I think he regretts now, but it is too late.

Cause he's in hell now.

 

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