A boy dies, but still lives. he dies a death that takes away his emotions and feelings, leaving him as a cold person who sees the world in a way the people around him cant. all the people see things through a veil of emotions and feelings, but he is not blinded like the world. searching to find some way to be happy, he wanders and watches the people as they stumble through life as they search the same as he. he searches for ways to feel again, often by causing great pain to himself and others.
The taste is bitter, like salt and iron. The thick blood fills my mouth, it wells from deep inside. The thick dark liquid oozes from my mouth, dripping down my chin and staining my shirt with its deep crimson. I stare blindly into space as my eyes glaze over. The pain is sharp and overwhelms my thoughts. All I can feel is the pain inside. My eyes start to roll and tears stained with blood start to roll down my cheek. The pain is so great that I can't even begin to imagine why I wanted to feel pain before. I can feel my heart as it thunders in my chest, trying in vain to restore life to my body. but I am growing cold. I lose feeling of my body, I can't control it anymore. All that I know is the pain, the burning pain inside. The pain in my heart from the poison of the world, that poison that kills so many. I thought I would be safe in my hidden cove of solitude, but I was wrong. The blood grows thick as it sits in my mouth and congeals. I start to choke and my mind begins to grow still. I start to fade. My heart stops and I fall to the ground. My eyes roll back and my lids grow heavy. As I die this death I dream of what might have been, of what I might have felt. But it is to late now, as my body and mind shut down.
The pain slowly fades, and I can begin to think again. I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I didn't mean to die and become cold like a corpse. I didn't mean to become the living dead. But as the blood grows ever thicker in my throat, I cough and spit it out. I can still taste the iron and salt inside my mouth, and as I stand and look at myself I see the pool of blood that sits at my feet. I can see and smell the dark red liquid all around me. I wipe my eyes of the tears and see the blood there as well. I can feel the blood that is left freezing in my veins. But the pain is gone. My heart is still and I feel nothing inside anymore. My mind has gone cold but is still very active in other ways.
I kneel down and cup the swirling nectar that pooled from my veins in my hands. I raise my hands above my head let the sweet liquid drip down into my hair and onto my face. I spread my arms wide and laugh. I laugh at the world and laugh at the people. They don't understand anything, and I can't help but laugh at them, still wearing their masks and walking around like blind fools. I walk to the window with bloody feet that trail bright red footprints that gleam in the light of the moon as it shines through the small glass window. I place my hands on the glass palms out and press my forehead to the cool window and look out and up at the moon. I drag my hands down the window and back away. I turn to where I died, and take off my shirt. I hold it up and look at the tear in its front. Dropping my arms, I let the rag drag along the floor as I returned to the pool, trailing the deep crimson liquid. I stand in the pool once more, and can feel the thick blood oozing through my toes, and I laugh once more.