[h1][b][i][color=39b54a][center]Felix Hausten[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center]Location: Justice Memorial Hospital [/center]

He was still out. Still unable to decide his own fate. He was always obsessed with trying to twist his own fate into a better shape but right now. His fate and life were in the hands of professionals. Professionals that could be bribed and could have ulterior motives. If he had been conscious he'd be objecting and trying to get out of that surgery. His eye socket was likely gonna make it, he appreciated that at least. His eye might've been gone but at least he was being..was it repenting? Paying for what he had done.

In his own confines of his mind, he was seeing his old family house. Strange men and women, drunk and surrounded in smoke as they stumbled through his dads house. He used to always have these weird people, obviously gangsters and drug addicts. His father had these parties to imporve their money, people loved them. Felix didn't. His brothers made sure he stayed in his room but when he went outside of his room, he saw the filth of the city. The subject of his books soon to come.

He wished he could've done more. he was grateful his end wasn't there yet. He needed to wake up. After the surgery he didn't want to rest for too long. He'd be in pain. He knew that. But he wasn't just going to lay around and let himself be pushed around. No. His story wasn't over. He knew how books worked. He was going to push through this pain and get to the tole he deserved. He would make an impact on the public and make this into the story. The story that would make him and everyone else famous and remembered. He'd publish it. best seller. Come on. It had to be finished.