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It all started when he was a young boy.
His Father wasn't the best at hiding what he does to himself, but he is good at hiding what he does to other people.
His Father drinks, sometimes. It was only when the days got so bad that his Father wanted to drown in something 'good'. But they both know it wasn't good.
None of it was good.
Anything his family ever did was not good. Nothing was good. Everything was just held by a mask, that they played oh, so well.
Because it was a mask, the mask's rules that they were silently told about, since birth.
It was easy to follow the rules. And it was easy to do nothing bad.
But you know.
Dreams, hopes and everything kind has it ends.
It's all gone, and he has nothing else to do, but to stare at a lake, a blue one (he doesn't know why he has to point the color out).
To him, he feels likes it's been forever. Looking at the blue lake, that is. He's been looking at it forever. Ever since he's been slightly interested into healing people.
He's helped his father with his drinking habits ("helped" in the sense that he was a butler, a servant, a slave, making sure that his father didn't do anything harmful). He's healed him before ("healed" in the sense that he's stayed with him, longer then Elizabeth did, longer then anyone else did).
So, why not heal other people? It's what he's good at.
And it's what he's been able to do. His heart strings get tugged on, whenever he sees broken people. Broken people like him.
He wonders why though. Why they are like him. Why he wants to help them, when he didn't want to help himself.
It's quite funny to him. He helps others but would rather have himself be in enveloped in his own, handmade thorns.
Handmade thorns he made because everyone... everyone hated him. Hated him. Hated his ever living guts. That's.. that's why he helps people. Maybe? Maybe not?
But it's the only reason he can say. The only thing he can say “Yes, that's why I'm like this” to. He understands it. But he hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it.
Static noise fills his head and ears.
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He needs to focus on his breathing.
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He's safe now.
He's safe now.
He's safe now.
He's safe now.
He's safe now.
He's safe now.
He shakes his head.
Where was he at? ..He feels lonely. But there's people around, he's at school. Why does he feel lonely?
He's at his favorite class, a class where he can just chill. His friends are here. Everything that makes him happy is here.
So why does he feel this way?
Does he feel like he should... do something?
Like school- work? It would make the ache in his chest disappear.. that would be helpful.
But why does it ache?
Is it aching because.. he's read this before, and he knows he slightly believes it. He slightly believes everything because he's just childish like that.
But is his chest aching because of his other half experiencing pain?
He doesn't know.. maybe he wouldn't know. Maybe he shouldn't know.
Arg. He should just do something to occupy his thoughts. Maybe think of ways to help people.
Or maybe he can join in what his friends have been saying! That could work!