Pain, Suffering, and Numb

The Boy

The boy sat alone in a dark room.

The world around him simply moved on.

The boy saw it happen, but he did not care to stop it

He had become a separate entity.

Something in the outside.

Outside

The outside was dismal, dark, crushing

He only returned there for the sick pleasure the pain gave him

He knew it was dangerous

He knew the risks

From the outside he watched home, and the world continuing without him

He saw it all and was almost content.

Almost.

He saw it, hell, he looked down upon the world he once knew

But the part of him that belonged there.

It longed to be home.

The boy realized his mistake.

He was one of them

No outsider

He did not belong outside

He could not survive

For outside was a poison

Poison

He saw what his time in this other place had done.

He was between the two worlds.

Neither held their original charm.

He had poisoned himself.

Eaten it like candy.

He hurt for a time.

His hurt came from the outside

He felt happiness

Happiness came from home

Home

Could he still call that place home?

The boy felt as though he was beyond "home"

Not that it would take him back

He was kicked out

Like a problem child

For the warmth it once gave him scalded his skin

The light blinded his eyes

He drifted

A lost child in worlds that did not forgive.

One day he met a friend

This friend was from the outside

The friend smiled at him

Lured him to the outside with the promise of a new home

This new home was a lie.

He was more torn than ever

He realized his friend was more demon than ally

He ran from the demon

He never truly escaped it

He returned to the in between

Others

The boy of course met other travelers

He did not trust these strangers

And they did not trust him

For all the travelers had encountered them

And justly feared them

In between

A cold and dark place

With only an unnatural brightness to show the way

For the boy it was a tower.

Others an asylum, a farm, a city, or an infinite number of things

It was the dividing

And anchoring

Point of the two worlds

An odd place for a nomad such as he

Perhaps he could have made it his home

But stability does not favor this boy

The tower, like all things do, collapsed

The boy returned to his old life as a traveler

Fear.

The boy feared little anymore.

His life had become directionless

He feared only one thing

A life of solitude

Solitude

He found another friend

This one much more persuasive

It told him to return to the place he still called home

The boy, suspicious yet weary agreed

He felt joy for the first time in years.

Perhaps he had truly returned

Scars remained from the demon, however

The boy realized he must leave, if only to spare his friend from a fate such as his

As he left his friend changed

Not to a demon

No

This friend was some horrible abomination

A joining of the two

It held him captive in home

And the scars shed blood once more

Blood.

The boy, growing tired of his existence

Fought the abomination

The boy was horribly outmatched

Yet he won

For he fought with no regard for himself

Perhaps he would die

Death was too stable a fate for this boy

The boy walked on.

His only companion were the glowing footprints all travelers left behind them

This place was his lifeblood

Without it he would be dead

With it, he could not truly live