You might think you know me.

But you don't know me.

I'm not the "white knight" you think I am. In fact, my heart is dark and cold.

Childhood never really existed for me. I can hardly remember the warmth of my mother's arms. Emptiness plagued my early years.

"Accidental death in the line of duty," they said. My father was a "hero."

Or at least I thought he was.

Gray clouds have hung heavy over my head ever since the day my mother died. She had been ill for as long as I could remember. Her powdery, gray ashes flowed smooth like silk through my fingertips on the day I spread her ashes.

I was surrounded by people but I was alone.

That's what I was, and that's what I always will be. Relationships may be brief. We must always be prepared for our lives to be cut short. We are not promised a tomorrow.

I am a soldier, like my father before me. A weapon of mass destruction...my life is not my own.

I am unable to think and feel for myself. I must remain calm, cool and collected at all times. Eyes are always watching.

Your lives depend on me. My actions and my decisions...I am the one who is ultimately responsible for not only your lives, but the entire world's existence.

That is a heavy burden for any man to bear.

People call me a "hero"... I am anything but. I am a dutiful soldier, a killing machine, a puppet on a string and an empty shell.

You might think you know me.

But you don't know me.