Humaneness definition is "characterized by tenderness, compassion, and sympathy for people and animals, especially for the suffering or distressed; acting in a manner that causes the least harm to people or animals". (The Definition of Humaneness)
I have been running for weeks from humans. I am now in a forest where they refused to even take a step into, which you could say is a good thing and then maybe not. As you can tell I'm not human. No, see I am a something else, and somehow the humans in the village found out about it. I mean I kept the death rates considerately low, and no one visited me ever not even to socialize. Anyways, I could careless seeing as I can always find another place to settle down again and start a whole new life. People believe anything you tell them, and they never get suspicious. People always forget my face, but I never forget theirs. That means if I see them again I try to leave as soon as possible that isn't suspicious.
Wales, 1897. A new place like all the others and new people to meet. Why do I have to keep doing this every single year? I am getting tired, so maybe I should just go get a coffin and lay there for awhile. Maybe that would be a good thing. The only thing is that I have to do is find a way to look dead, so I won't be found out. What should I do? There is nothing here that is killing the people, suicide is out of the question, and then there are no wild animals around. I really wish there was a murderer or plague right now, so they can think that I am dead. I can't wait to be "dead" again. I wonder what it is like for the dead, because I can never die. Nothing can kill me, at least not anything that the people or myself have found. I am alone, tired, and bored. Sleep the long awaited sleep.
I did finally got the sleep that I wanted seven years later when there were people dying of unknown causes. People all had different ways of dying, and well that was the best time to just pretend to be dead and have them bury me. I don't how long it has been since I have been buried, but I don't care. My main question is, "Can I stay here a little longer?", but then I realized that I can for no one knows that I am here. No one dares disturb the dead anyways, who would want to. Then again, I would disturb the dead, because that is how you find more of my kind. I wish there was ways to kill my kind for I think the world would be better without any of us. I mean all we do is kill people, and then leave broken families wondering. My family probably didn't realize that I had even been missing, better yet dead until they found my body.
My family. What could I say about them? I had too many brothers to count, because they were everywhere. One sister that died at the age of thirteen from a wild animal attack. My parents were unique, though. Out of anybody you met you would think that they were abnormal, because they were all over the place sometimes just like the countless brothers that I have. They just had too many things to do, and they spoke too quickly so nothing that needed to get done, did. My family should be dead by now. They actually should have been dead way before 1897, because I became who I was in 1713. The descendants might be alive, but my actual close family should be dead. Them being dead is for the best, because that means there is nothing holding me back now.
The last time I saw my parents was right before I went missing, and that day was peaceful. The house was completely different from any other day, but the only problem with that was that meant there was something that had happened or is going to happen that my parents knew about. Sometimes I think they knew what was going to happen to me, and were trying to make sure that everyone left on a good note with me so there would be no regrets about what was said out of anger. I can't say that being on good terms with them before leaving is the best thing for that only makes me think they knew what was going to happen was their doing and not by opportunity. May my family not live forever.
I was taken by insane people that only cared about living forever. Those people were never able to "achieve" their goal of making people immortal. Everyone that was experimented on died during the process. Though once we had died we come back after being placed in the ground. No clue how that works but it did, and those people will never know that what they did actually worked. The only problem there is there isn't no known cure for this experiment that those people caused. The cure would be the best thing ever to have, because then all of us would be dead. Living this life day after day is quite boring after awhile. Sometimes I wonder how the others like me are able to deal with this life.
I have only come across someone like me only about five times, and everytime I have they aren't friendly. Actually, for the most part they are violent and would rather fight than talk about anything and/or everything. Though, they seem to have stayed hidden from sight of humans, so they must be doing something right. No one knows what or who we are which is for the best, because if they did they would end up dead. No one should have to die from meeting one of us. Hopefully no has died from just meeting one of us.
I would say that I wish I knew what would have been my life if I hadn't been taken for this stupid experiment, but honestly if it wasn't me then it would have been someone else who would have had to go through it. I do wonder about how many there are of my kind, and if there is a way to kill us. Living year after year is not fun, and can be even worse alone. The one thing that we are allowed to have when we are buried is another vial of the concoction that made us who we are. I believe they give us that vial, so if we do come back then we might go turn them with the concoction. Every concoction that those people made were different in their own way. The concoction changed one thing about our appearance that is noticeable to everyone. One of my kind had bright blue hair while his eyebrows were blonde. Eventually my kind will have to meet if we don't want our existence known by humans. The major setback with being immortal is that our rage or temper is almost triple what it was when we were human. Nothing about us can be considered a gift or amazing, and for the most part we should stay hidden we aren't human.
Citied:
"The Definition of Humaneness." Dictionary.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 16 Sept. 2016.
