Broken ≫ h.s.

"It's funny, really, how in the midst of torturous pain, immense suffering, and looming dread, everything seems to disappear around you. Emotions flea, pain evaporates, and you're left to feel nothing. You don't protest; there's nothing you can do. You just lay there and allow whatever it is to keep doing it, to keep harrowing you. You don't become wracked with sobs; you don't cry out for help; you don't push, shove, or shriek. There's no one to save you. You lay there motionless, almost as if you were in a deep unconscious sleep. Because feeling nothing, is better than feeling something of weary misery and hopelessness. Feeling nothing in the midst of pain was doable; it was tolerable. It's odd, really, that you feel nothing when you are fitfully defeated because it is better than feeling the insufferable pain which insinuates that of a broken soul."