I had a best friend, once...
It was a long, long, time ago. When I was young, naïve, and innocent. I had a loving Mamma and Papa, a sweet little brother, and a happy little puppy. Overall, life was great.
There were two other things that I cared about, and treasured with all my heart, one was my bookshelf, which gained more and more books with each passing month.
The second thing was my then-best friend. He knew about my obsession with books, he knew how much I loved my bookcase, and that's why when we had our falling out, that was the first thing he targeted.
"NO! Jon, don't do this!"
My Bookshelf was tied to the rocket, and it was about to take off, I struggled against his bodyguards, who held me back as I watched the countdown.
"Why are you so upset?" Jon asked, "Your book collection will have really taken off!"
"Nooooo!" I blindly punched one of the guards, it barely made a difference. "Please, Jon, Reconsider! Do you really want to do this? Look inside yourself, this isn't who you want to be!"
For a moment, he looked remorseful, but then he turned and said. "It's to late for me."
Then I watched my beloved book collection blast off into space.
That day hardened me, it made me a warrior, it showed me how it felt to lose something you loved.
That was the day my friend back stabbed me.