My flesh ached as I sat, huddled on the rough wooden floor, face buried in my hands. I shivered, adding to the aching, stinging pain. The shivers, though, just made my body hurt more. I ignored the quiet voices that echoed up from the first floor of the ruined building. I couldn't believe how much danger they were willing to put themselves in for me. I glanced up, looking around the dingy, dark room. Things were falling apart, torn and ripped. Everything was broken or nearly so. It was all my fault. I broke the door, the glass mirror, the chairs, the bed posts... I looked away, ashamed of myself, even though I knew I couldn't help it. I couldn't control what I did. I was helpless under the glare of the white globe hanging in the sky.
My body began to quickly, without warning, explode in pain, and my vision was temporarily blinded by a burst of white stars. I moaned as every square inch of my body erupted with head-splitting pain and agony. I collapsed to the floor, whimpering and groaning and pleading for everything to be okay. I was able to lift my head just enough to gaze past my tears, out the window at the colorless sphere hanging in the sky. I resented its ability to cast its glow on everything in its reach. I cursed it as the pale moonlight shone mockingly upon me. How could such a beautiful thing bring so much suffering?