Summary: John Cena had it all-a good job, fame and looks, but after a break-up with the former love of his life he gets splashed in the face with acid and becomes horribly disfigured. The former Raw Superstar begins a life in isolation, resulting into him entering a mental institution home, where he meets a strange young girl, who claims she can see a person's future. Will this unorthodox creature give John the light he needs to carry on?

Chapter one

Mina…it rolls off your lips like a drop of summer rain, the name, Mina…as gentle as a blooming rose, sweet like nectar, pure and gentle like a sea-side breeze.

It's not just the name I loved once, it was her…a beautiful, charming, alluring woman with the sun in her long wavy blond hair and the sky kissing her eyes in a deep blue…it was her laughter, which seemed like an angel's song to my ears, her touch which was spring warmth and feather's caress.

At least, that's what I thought I saw, but as it seems, my whole life I've been blinded.

There once was a song that said "Beauty always comes with dark thoughts." by a Finish band I don't even remember liking. Somehow, that dark line runs in my mind a lot these current days.

Because the blooming rose has is thorns, the nectar is nothing but pure satisfying poison, the sea-breeze is as sharp as a dagger…the sunlight and the sky, they blind you with their fake perfection, tease you as you fall inside a pit of helplessness, then uncover to you that the spring is nothing more than a dry winter in disguise.

I don't know when I became so poetic…if an acquaintance even heard me now, they'd really think I've gone crazy.

Do you think I've gone crazy? Maybe I have, or maybe it's just the hiding in daylight's shadows, that cold, distant corner of what once was a pleasant home, now seeming more like a steel cage, numbs everything else and sharpens your senses, causing you to develop a muse, a thirst for something distant, something pure, if only words.

I stay by the window, not wanting to look at the sky, not caring to reminisce, the tasty sorrow inside of me striking me like thousands pieces of blood-hungry glass, speaking to me, teasing me, laughing…

Yes, the last thing I heard that day was her laugh….

It's too clear for me now, it becomes clearer everyday to the point where I can't force myself to believe that it's just a fearful dream….maybe one day, it'll be too clear for me to handle, but for now, I somehow manage…

Every breath I take and every glance outside my window suffocates me and I, in a masochistic fashion drill it deeper into my being, as a wiser man saying, I feel the need to punish myself for my own fate.

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We were told we were a great couple, so perfectly completing each-other; while I was the strong one, she was my angel, calm and peaceful beside me, with a certain attitude that made me feel proud she was all mine. Mina, not just a typical supermodel, a true inspiration to any hungry artist's muse, she'd transform in front of my eyes from an innocent Lolita to a delicious temptress, from a stylish posh to a unwise street girl. She always knew how to make me laugh, she was the one I'd turn to when I needed help the most, but something went wrong, terribly, terribly wrong…

How can you find the right words to express yourself when you find out that life didn't give you a sweet strawberry, but a rotten apple?

A month after I had decided to give her my name, I found her in bed with one of my closest friends.

The pictures flash before my mind of that day; I yelled, she cried, everything felt out of place, out of touch with reality…I didn't want to make much of a fuss, I figured, there was no point in screaming out the pain I felt, so I quietly and discretely cancelled the wedding-ring I had ordered and set her free from my presence, from my love, from my dream….surprisingly, she didn't take it that well.

Flashback start

"Stop screaming and just get out of my house." I snapped, handing her a briefcase with her belongings and gesturing towards the door, trying my best to remain stiff, while inside my soul was dying

"John, don't do this…" She turned at me, tears falling down her doll-like porcelain face, attempting to hold me, but I jerked away and pushed her forward.

"I never wanted things to end this way…."

"John, I love you…what happened was a big mistake; I swear I never meant to hurt you…please… I need you…." Mina fought her way into my arms, and I, once more, pushed myself further away as possible, knowing that if I touched her, I'd die on the spot.

"Don't lie to me….you're pathetic…don't think I don't know what you've been doing behind my back the last few months. Get out of my face, you…" She grabbed the night lamp and smashed it on the floor, then gave out a helpless moan, while digging in her hair painfully with her long fingernails:

"Please, John…"

"Go, the cab is waiting…" I roughly shoved her outside, throwing her trunk outside the window and hiding my face behind the beautiful silk curtain. She walked away dizzily, crumbling down on her knees at the garden front, screaming my name, resembling at that moment a small child separated from its mother, her whole body shaking, unable to take those crucial few steps away from my life. The taxi driver came out of his car and practically carried her inside, trying his best to hold his ground and be professional about it, all in the same time, comforting. In his eyes maybe I was the villain, the sick, insane mind who ruined a lovely woman's life with fake promises of happiness…he and everyone else would soon know that the roles were switched.

Flashback end

From that point on, a part of me gave up love and happiness and drove me to seek a pleasurable life elsewhere, in alcohol, parties and women; a case of denying the obvious, if you will that it was life that cheated on me, not Mina.

It was only weeks later when I knew that something was wrong… working in my business, you'd tend to get followed around by paparazzi everywhere you go, but never before did I have the feeling that I was being stalked, even in privet moments, I could always feel someone watching. Not wanting to panic, I simply shrugged all fear aside with the thought that I was just being paranoid, for my own sanity's sake. Too proud to seek professional help, too foolish to answer to the advices that came from my friends and loved ones, too hopeful that things would somehow work out….

One night I was walking in my home when that rotten apple's poison sunk inside me…

I don't remember much of that moment, only a misty face, sharp, hysterical laughter and the pain….it was as if someone was pulling my skin right off my face, with razors for hands, twisting it…a fire exploded right around my eyes, digging to my insides, every inch of flesh burning and squirming roughly…I remember my own scream…an un-human scream, the scream of the animal I had become that one night….

When I came through, it was a week later, in a hospital bed with a needle in my arm, attached to a life-support system. I couldn't remember how I ended up there, my mind could hardly focus on anything at all…when I asked the people around me, they'd just turn their faces or walk away, as if, somehow, they were a part of something I wasn't, as if somehow I was in a different world, an un-normal world dripping in blood.

Some days later they took the life support system off, as well as my bandages, then quietly, a doctor handed me a mirror and a cheap magazine.

I can't describe to you what I felt next…

The horror of not recognizing your own face….

It wasn't me anymore, but a grotesque, appalling beast…an unseen before monster…as I touched my own cheek, feeling my blood freeze in my veins and chills climbing up my back, I felt tears forming in my eyes, the only part of my face that seemed humane. My glance slid towards the magazine, where on the cover was a face I had seen in my dreams and from that day forward, in my nightmares.

The headline was:

"Mina Stoinovski, jealous ex, disfigures WWE superstar John Cena with pure acid…"

The whole room shook with my cry as tears rolled down my rough cheeks and I threw myself backwards, every muscle in my body twitching, shaking my whole being, blood coming from my nose and mouth…

"Hold him down! We need some tranquilizers, now!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Cena…"

"It'll all be alright, we're here for you…"

I was discharged from the hospital only a day later….or what was left of me….

Until my last breath I will continue to curse this demon with an angel's face.

I was told she's still rotting in prison, but the cage she put me in was much, much worse…the cage of my own body, the one jail I could never break, not until I would live.

From that day forward, John Cena no longer existed…instead, in his place, was just John… a piece of a broken mirror, a leftover of a human corpse… a piece of rotting flesh, which only survived, not lived.

I locked myself away not only in myself, but in the place I once called my home, afraid to show myself in the light. My family was forced to take care of me; up until a point I couldn't even react to what was a real and what was a dream. I lost my job, my health, my strength…not living, just existing in the shadow of my own terror, gasping for my last stroke of sanity. I broke my connections with everyone, ran away from all that was light, pure and normal, in a jealous, hateful manner of the world's reality and beauty. As days past me by, I couldn't even leave my bed or eat a bite…I lived only on my own self-hate and misery.

Not so long ago, I was taken by force out of this fake four-walled dark world of dead dreams and fallen secret wishes and taken to a different type of prison where people with lost souls wandered around like living dead, teased and laughed at their own self-being, to a sick institute where all close to life was mocked and poked fun of.

"Welcome to your new home, John. Come on, let me show you your neighbor." Doctor Reye addressed me , walking me in a white room where everything close to reality had differed and hid away; as I passed by the door, I saw a crouched figure in the corner, hugging her legs and humming a song to herself. Noticing my movements, she rose her head up slowly and locked her gaze with mine.

A girl, no more than 19 years old with long, messy straight brown hair which fell over her swollen face, as pale as a sheet, so pale, you could see the veins beneath her skin….and a pair of big black eyes, which at first glance, terrified me with their unique beauty, resembling two tunnels with a distant, but extant light.

"Say hello to your new friend, Lane." The medic turned to her and she simply smiled with those small pink lips of hers; then said in an out-of place for her appearance glee:

"I've been waiting for you…"