Since I saw it drop, I wanted the Red Spectre for ages. Match after match, I kept trying and trying, improving my skill and holding onto hope. My journey was as long and hard as a black man that had his crotch teased for 2 straight hours. My father has gotten it seven seperate times. [b]Seven. Seperate. Times.[/b] Every time it dropped for him, I would give a sigh of defeat and lay on the couch until the next match. [u]The worst part is, he never really even checked the rolls.[/u] Towards the end of my long, hard journey to get the Spectre, I would always get best around in every match I tried. I even got a SoaT at one point, but it didn't matter to me. [u]I wanted a Red Spectre.[/u] My hope was dying out. I was in a Rumble match with my father and my friend, John. We play together all the time, we're an inseparable trio. One of us wants something? We help each other. One of us needs to be carried? We got each others backs. Either way, back to the point. I was sniping left and right, picking people off like sesame seeds. Hate mail was becoming second nature to me. I didn't care. [u]I wanted a Red Spectre.[/u] The match ended with [b]"Victory!"[/b] at the top of my screen. Shaxx was pleased. I was indifferent and unsurprised by past drops. I never thought the moment would come. The moment [b]it[/b] dropped. A Red Spectre with Battle Runner and Life Support with enough stability to cope. As soon as I saw the reward screen drop it on me like a ballsack, I felt doubt. Confusion. Excitement. I was so drowned in past doubt, past hopelessness. I never knew what victory tasted like anymore. I almost cried. We ended that match by going to the tower, laughing, having a good time, and sliding into Rahool's DM's. It was a good day.