I had a daughter over the weekend who slammed me against the wall and screamed at me to get away from her mother, because in the future, I went evil, turned her into one of the four Horsemen of Apocalypse, destroyed her world, and ultimately killed her. Every night I go to bed terrified that I'll become just that kind of monster, and now I have confirmation that somewhere, somewhen, I do.

I'm a clone, the happy, wonderful life I lived before coming into the real world was all a lie. Home was never home, my family never existed. No real person has ever told me that they love me and actually meant it.

Why am I still trying so hard to make something good of myself?