Child of rage.
Violence is not something so overt. The blood dripping down from someone's broken nose sometimes may be the closest thing we get to peace.
The true danger of violence comes from within, rather than the outward expression of anger. Even a frightened animal will lash out when pressured enough, does that make them a violent creature however?
Having done the things needed to survive, and yet, the only reward you gain is the title of monster? Some, untamed, violent creature?
And what of those peaceful? They watched the pit of anger, desperation, pain well up from the outside looking in. But that is all they did. Watch. Does it not make them guilty? Are they ever?
Born to rage, born to hate, making the choice to be peaceful, to try your hardest to become more than what the world made you is something even those peaceful onlookers may never comprehend.
Do not dawdle, you have come this far. Make it mean something.
Rise above the whispers that echo in your head, run until your heels bleed, and never look back at how far you've come, it's useless to dwindle in the past. To be stuck in a constant loop of what you once owned.
My own advice is to never end up as I have, staring at my hands, wondering at how once they were achingly empty, now overwhelmingly full.
Rage is something that consumes the whole world, do not let it drag you down here with the rest of us.