I've never truly known the reason for it, but it was given to me to see the depth of people. My eye is just sharp enough, my mind twisted enough, that no soul can keep its secrets from me. I understand. I can meet a person's eye, and know every winding fantasy, every hidden fear. It's such a beautiful idea, to see the reality of people. That is what it seemed, at first. A beautiful idea. To learn what it is that inspires dreams, to feel the beginning and reason for love, that seemed a miracle. A rose in winter, a secret bloom opening for me alone.
Slowly, as I grew older, the world weighed heavier. The beautiful rose tore my flesh with its thorns. This "gift", this insight let me read the truth to people, but it taught me how to feel the chill of a lie. The pain in people, their great boundless cruelty began to choke out the beauty in them. People hate with such conviction it began to tear at me. To look in a man's face and smile. Smile when I can feel the heat and the whisper of every vicious thought, that is the making of madness. Rage. I became a beast. It built in me, the poison of my people. Lies, lies. Deceptive. So bitterly obvious. Perfumed roses to cover the scent of decay. It ruined me, finally. I couldn't take the burden of other people's minds. I fled. Made sure that no one would ever come near me with their chaotic agony. Their smiling deceptions. I spat truth at them. Carefully sharpened. I am alone. They call me a beast, resent me for knowing their secrets. I understand. They fear me because I have felt all of their worst little cruelties. Thorns. I am the monstrosity their own thoughts built. I am their conscience, their Beast.