[ WP ] A villian who thinks he 's a hero realizes he 's the villian . What is he thinking ?

I sat outside the house every night. Her house. Starring toward the Venetian drapes in the corner room of her ranch. Knowing that I could never be with her. 
 
 I had repainted my car from that faithful night, the night where I would save her essence. Changing my Honda Civic from silver to black took four cans of spray paint but it was worth it. I was a hero, an angel sent to take care of her. 
 I never thought blood would splatter on a windshield like that. It was thicker, more like maple syrup than the blood capsules I was used to as a child. I guess hitting anyone, even a grown man, would of exploded like that. 
 
 Evan was never right for her. He would of doomed her to life of normalcy. He was middle management. She was a star, a beacon of light in an infinitely black life. I knew she was meant for more so I knew what had to be done. To release her from her shackles. So I did. And it looked like maple syrup. 
 
 So why was she still crying? It had been eight weeks since I found out my civic could go 60 miles per hour. Then I saw it. Her figure was clear beneath those Venetian drapes. She was pregnant. I hated those drapes. I hated myself. Time to find out how fast this car can actually go. 

