One thing.

 You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this… Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - then what right had you to leave me? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us; you, of your own will, did it! I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.                                                        

                                                                                                               © Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

One thing I've learned about during my life is fear. People who don't have to live with fear day in, day out take living without it for granted. They are used to bodies that do not tremble, shoulders that do not ache with tension, a mind that does not continuously prickle with terror. To them, nightmares are an unusual and irritating occurrence that appear only rarely. They will not be awakened, night after night, by the sound of their own inexplicable, terrified sobs.

Fear is the strongest weapon there is. Above respect, hatred, and love, it is the one thing that can truly keep people in their place.

This is a particular type of fear. A pure, grade A terror. Made all the worse because I know exactly what to expect. Not only that, but I know that I have to take what's coming. I have to, otherwise there'll be no future for us.