Running. Running away from everything he knew. Or knows. Or ever thought he’d know. Everything he loves. Not that he really did love it. It’s not his fault. He didn’t do it.
Why do they blame him so?
He is not one of them anymore. He is who he is. It’s all behind him now.
* * *
Walking. He started out running, but he was soon tired and his breaths had begun to come in short bursts.
That’s why he was rejected.
It’s not fair. They simply cannot expect perfection.
That’s why he was running. But that’s not the only reason. He felt his face get warm as his vision blurred.
¡Cállate! Stop it!
He’s slowing down.
Focus on the pain.