The blades whirred, tearing whatever was left to tattered shreds. My tear soaked flesh gleamed as the blades cut deeper into my middle, the scarlet river flowing from the gashes created. I look down at my ruined torso, peering in horror at the deepest of wounds, right over my heart. The blades had finally punctured it and the truth spilled out faster than the red blood had, engrossing everyone in it. Them who had watched on wordlessly, their glassy eyes peering into mine but seeing no pain, only the estranged facade put on like a show. How blind they were, peering at me, barely trying, through a screen of lies. A screen woven so thick that it was even difficult for my eyes to quell. My vision blurs with the salty tears that had become so regular in my life, making the people fade into an unwanted haze. But what if one had cared? Would my pain be so great now? The pain of being hated every day, quenched by the kindness of others? Humanity, though, is an uncaring and selfish race, so how could they have even bothered to help? To see? To care? The last of truth drips down my side and onto the floor, rushing into a flood of tears and lies. The current sweeps me away from these people. The water so high that it becomes difficult to tread, and I slip under. Once. Twice. I drown in the lies that I had created and the truth left untold as the people who could have saved me, watched on wordlessly.