I Am The One Who Suffers

Agony.

All I feel. All the time, I feel it.

Pain. Heartbreak. Torture.

It is torture.

I feel the burning heat of a thousand suns on my back, and yet the freezing cold of ice on my chest. I feel like my eyes are being stabbed, and I feel like my fingers are being broken.

I feel like someone just stomped my heart into the ground. Like they rejected me, or told me that I am simply not good enough.

I can feel blades stabbing into me, and tweezers pulling things out of me. I can feel my lungs being crushed, and filled, and I can feel my stomach twist and contort in the most uncomfortable of ways.

I feel my mind cloud with thoughts of hate, with thoughts of self-loathing. I feel myself drowning in invisible words, said by beings that simply are not real.

I feel all pain, every pain. I exist outside of space and time, in a place no one can reach, and no one can hear. This is my life, this is my existence. I do not know why.

I am The One Who Suffers, and the one who will never stop suffering. I will still be stuck in this loop of pain long after the universe ends, long before the universe starts, and well into everyone's existence.

I will experience every pain all at once, for eternity. That is my fate, my purpose.

It does not get better. I do not get used to it. My mind wants to die, and I myself want to die. I wish for nothing more than to leave this pitiful plane of reality, to escape to a black nothingness.

I would love that. Feeling nothing for eternity. Not thinking thoughts of death, nor experiencing pain. It would be... nice.

The one thing that does not hurt in my existence is the watching. I can see everything that goes on, although I am powerless to do anything. If I am a reader, than the universe is the writer.

Amid all of my pain, I can see, and I can watch. I do not envy the lives of those at which I stare, as I do not want them. But there is a particular entity I have taken a liking to- a female on a planet known as Earth.

Her hair is pink, not far from the hazy red I constantly see.

Her skin is pale, unlike the darkness of space.

And her eyes are blue, a calming, peaceful blue, and quite a contrast to my existence.

I enjoy watching her go about her day. Walk from here to there, then back. She is not in pain as much as I am; she has never experienced this crushing feeling, or the sensation of every bone in the body breaking and snapping.

She merely walks from here to there, twice a day, every day. That is the life of the one being I envy.

I long for her simplicity. For the ability to not be in constant pain, to be able to experience something akin to joy. That would be nice, just as nice as a black nothingness.

There she goes again. Walking to an "arcade", this time. A male has joined her- short brown hair, similar to... dirt. Tan skin, like that of... dry dirt. Dark brown eyes, akin to... dirt.

I do not see anything exemplary in this entity, other than his...un-exemplariness.

They walk hand-in-hand, and for some reason, I feel something in my chest. Like... someone is leaving me. I feel this all the time, but now... it is much bigger, much... more.

But I cannot do anything, and I only watch. That is all I can do, to try and distract myself from my existence, and my pain. But this new pain, it is every other hurt tenfold. I have been watching this pink haired girl since her birth. I know every little detail of her life, from the size of her fingernail to her exact weight.

But I have never thought of her as mine. After all, I have done nothing to deserve of such. All I have done is suffer, suffer, and suffer.

So, as the girl and the boy walk into the arcade, I do something very simple.

I wish for her to have as good a life as any, at the very least, a life that is better than mine.

And I close my eyes, and I let the pain envelop me once more. I feel a new pain this time, but I do not care.

For I am The One Who Suffers, and I have no other purpose on this plane of existence.

The End.