Sam was chosen.

Chosen for something bigger

than you could ever

understand.

Bigger than I could

understand.

He was chosen to lead an

army of evil,

and he didn't make it.

I failed my job.

Cause that's my job right?

Watching my

pain in the (insert alternative word here)

little bother.

And I failed.

Sam's dead.

I feel like I am to.