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I've never really known much about myself.
Just that I like to help people, and try to ease their pain. I've always been a good listener, and for as long as I can remember I've been the one that everyone came to to confide in.
I thought that that made me happy. And in truth, it did. I really did like helping people.
But as time wore on, I started to feel bad about myself. I was surrounded by people that I cared about, but deep down I suspected that none of them really cared about me. I listened to everybody's problems with the upmost care and intention, but whenever I had something to say, people were either too busy didn't seem to care.
It's ironic, isn't it? I could hear from miles away and feel the pain of everyone's heart, but I was left ignored and uncared for by anyone.
And then, of course, people discovered that I radiate power when I faint. I slowly went from being everyone's emotional sponge to being a living, breathing punching bag.
I hated fighting. I hated making others feel sad. Why did everyone seem to feel the opposite? I tried to heal and imitate them to make them like me, but it never ceased.
And all the while, I could hear them for miles, chanting my name and hunting me down. I tried to hide, but I would always shiver uncontrollably in fear, which always seemed to give me away.
I just want the voices to stop. I want the pain to end.
I suppose my only regret is that I won't be here anymore to hear. To help. To heal.
All I had ever wanted was to make everyone happy. I just wish I could have at least done so for myself.
But then again, it's never really been about what I've wanted, has it?
-Audino
