Running, running. Every hour of every day, that's what I'm doing, running. Ph, it doesn't look like that. Not when I'm sitting in front of the Colonel's desk, not while I'm reading in the library. My body doesn't run, but every fiber of my being is trying to escape. Trying to escape those looks of pity, or worse, those carefree smiles and laughs, or worst of all the glares of those with nothing left to lose.
Some days, I wish I were anything other than human. Look at what we humans do—theft and murder, taking everything only to find it isn't enough. Even worse, though, are the innocent. They have such a beautiful view of the world—one that will inevitably darken to cynicism, if it doesn't take their life. I covet that innocence, even as I hate it. It would be so simple, so sweet… and it would get me killed.
Some days, I don't think I am human. By weight, I'm nearly three-quarters metal, so it isn't much of a leap, but that's not my logic. With that reasoning, I would be more human than Al, and my baby brother is human completely. I wonder, if maybe the gate didn't take more for my brother's soul than just my arm. A soul for a soul—wouldn't that be justice? Perhaps that is gone now, hollowed out like Izumi's gut. All I know is how cold I feel, so detached. As though everything is unreal, and only brushes over me with the softness of moth's wings. Then I come to my senses, remember Nina, Rose, think of how much the stone has already cost. I realize I'm all too human, and it makes me want to throw up.
Running, running, all that I am is running away from the world. Trying to outrun my old shame, my tainted innocence, my metal arm, the hated metal pocket watch, my ruined human self that cant seem to break the cycle of destruction. For someone so intelligent, I can't do anything right. I couldn't bring back my mother. I couldn't save my brother. I couldn't stop Leore from fighting the military, or Scar from killing Nina. I cant' do anything else, so I run. You can't out run yourself. All that I am is running.
