Being human is a luxury I can no longer afford.

Be human, they always said. Even when they held me in that bed and punctured my skin with some rusty nails. Be human, they repeated, as they tattooed that triangle in my back and told me that I would be perfect…with those…those things in my head and a black ooze in my veins. They said that those voices that haunted me were just computers repeating what I though, feeding from a certain emotion that they were made to target. Then they said I was the perfect hunter, the pacifier that would save mankind. They said that I was going to be the one that would purify the streets. I was 10…now…a couple years later…I understand what they meant when they said that humanity was a weakness. And that an excruciating amount of pain would release me from that weakness. I must agree that I died back then. Then they decided that I would go back to school. Get adopted, so they could study me to understand if I would fit back in society. I became the soulless machine that they always wanted me to be. Giving minor to no care of what my actions disembarked in. Pain to my classmates, blood of my own. Giving a simple question that would define the teachers anger. Freedom: Undefined. What is the meaning of life, young boy? Life: life has no meaning but to punish those who need to be punished. I was considered the menace, the outlaw. The doggone killer. I did not want to kill her, I did not want to hurt her, I just wanted to teach her as she taught us. I taught her that she should close the door as she unloaded her shopping bags from the car. It was more like a senseless joke. Leaving a 12 inch steel knife stuck in the table. Weeks later she quit her job and fled from town. And so, that I don’t see girls as attractive, I see girls as human, and humans as weak. Because since they made me feel what being human felt like, they made me stop being human. But I don’t pity humans, I don’t hate humans, I admire them, since they are able to live their lives loaded with faith, with Hope. Because humans are strong in a way, they are stronger than me, because I admire them and I wish to be like them.

That led to the accident, pushing that girl away from the car’s way was something these voices told me to do. And I lost my arm for it…but I was proud because I was human once again. And the neighborhood became my home, and charity gave me back my arm…even stronger. But my curse resurged in that fight I had with the girl’s boyfriend, since I had saved her, she created a brother like bond with me. And Since I am supposed to have no emotion, I became a wall, between her and her boyfriend. Poor guy…he brought out the dark in me…in front of everyone…but poor me. I had beaten him up, broken four ribs, crushed his mandible, dislocated his knee and twisted his ankle in front of twelve families. And all with a smile on my face. So now I understand tha. The one who needs punishment is me. The Delta guy…and since ropes, pills, crashes or self injuries don’t help. Maybe I am not meant to die…not yet.