I'm really getting into this story and the fact that it only took me a week to come up with this and write it is proof. Wow, in contrast that sounds really pathetic of me. Anyways, I believe this is my last one for a while. School is only in two weeks and I'm anticipating it to be really busy. Perhaps I can squeeze in one or two more chapters until then.

"Alright boys and girls. Today, we will be learning about the five senses. Who would like to name one?"

"The sense of smell!"

"Sense of taste!"

"Sense of hearing!"

"The sense of sight!"

"Yes Matthew, what is the last one?"

"Sense of pain?"

"Err...I'm afraid that's incorrect. It's actually the sense of touch, but I suppose one can argue that..."

Pain.

It was… an incomprehensible matter for the six-year old boy, for not only was it something difficult to understand, but he was immune to feel. Immune to feel the shock and burn when a careless hand grazes something on the stove or the quick and sharp sting one could easily get in a daily bases cutting vegetables or even something as simple as reading a book. Immune to feel the freezing, icy chill of the wind biting on one's cheeks or that horrible, prickly feeling when one stays out, bathed and exposed to the ruthless summer sun.

As one of the nurses who was describing these experiences as best as she could had said, Matthew was one lucky kid to be 'excused' from feeling so much…well, feelings. That day, Matthew just shrugged. He wouldn't know how it would feel to feel such things in the first place so he just nodded his little, blond head like a good boy.

Many, many times (so much so that Matthew couldn't possibly keep count) people have asked him common acts and questions of concern such as, for example; 'are you alright?' or 'where does it hurt?' or 'are you in pain?' All in which, the quite, little boy would bob his head up and down, stumped on what would be the appropriate thing to reply. He couldn't really say. Was he alright? Where does it hurt? Was he in pain? Thankfully just after those questions were asked, Papa would come running to the rescue and answer them for him. Papa Francis knew everything, after all.

Even so, Matthew couldn't help and be curious. He was born with it after all. At least the person up there was kind enough to let him keep that trait. Everyone said it was human, whether a sinful one or not, at least it was human. So one day, while sitting idly on one of the clinics' table with the nurse examining him and taking records, an innocent, harmless question escaped Matthew's lips, "What is pain?"

The nurse flinched from her usual grin and almost dropped the clipboard she was holding because of the unexpected subject. Seeing the twinkly eyed boy waiting persistently for an answer, she expertly recovered back to her customary façade. She smiled modestly and patted Matthew's head.

"That's quite a subjective topic to start. Hmm…let's see. Pain is when something hurts – well, how should I put it…?" she paused converting her thoughts in a proper way in which it could make sense to a patient who couldn't fathom simple words such as hurt and feel.

"Well…you can sense pressure, isn't that right Matthew?" In which the child nodded at familiarly.

"Okay, imagine that someone like your Papa, for example, is hugging you so tightly that it's very uncomfortable; you can hardly breathe, and he won't ever let go of you. It's hard to explain but I suppose it's sort of like that."

Matthew frowned. "But Papa wouldn't do something like that to Matthew. Papa is nice."

"Yes, well of course your Papa is a very nice man and he wouldn't… okay let me express it another way," the nurse mumbled. "Let's say you were eating candy and you happen to come across an unpleasant flavor. Think of something unbearably bitter or spicy if you will and then imagine that flavor gets worse and worse-"

"That wouldn't happen," Matthew cut off. "Papa would make it go away. Papa is nice."

The nurse let out an exasperated sigh, her patience slowly running out from the curious, little creature in her office. "In the case, that your Papa isn't there, Matthew!"

Matthew blinked once. Twice. "Why won't he be there? Papa is nice."

The nurse's light and happy expression was long gone and replaced with a calm, eerie smile. "You just don't get it do you, you little shi-," once again she stopped herself and stared at the boy long and hard before continuing. "Okay, you wanna know what pain is? Pain is what you feel when you come home from your godforsaken job and witness your husband shamefully in bed with another woman! Pain is when you smell the rancid stank of alcohol radiating on the furniture of your two room apartment and the sick scent of perfume on your husband's collar every night! Pain is when you hear your own voice dry and hoarse from countering all the accusations being thrown at you and the constant banging of the door from the landlady demanding for the apartment's rent. Pain is when all you can taste is cheap canned food for dinner every night and the bitterness of your tears when you can't stop them from falling down. Pain is something you don't like – something you hate very much, something you can get rid of to make you feel better. So you see, dear Matthew, I can't quite explain it anymore since I've gotten rid of it a long time ago and never felt something like that ever again…"

The nurse ended with a satisfied sigh and prepared the needles for the boy's weekly checkup. As she was inserting the needles into her patient's arm, Matthew blinked once. Twice. And grinned.

"So are you unique too? Are you like Matthew?"

The cute, violet-eyed boy left the clinic that day holding a grape flavored lollipop on one hand and intertwined the other with his father's much larger hand. He never saw that nurse ever again, although he always did like her. She was the only one to ever put up with him for that along and mostly, if not always, answered all his questions honestly. But no matter. At least he came home with two things on his little, blond head.

One; that pain is something you don't like and two; pain is something you can get rid of to make you feel better.

If that's the case, and if the doctors were telling the truth that he could not feel 'pain', does that mean Matthew was 'better' in the first place? After all, if you get rid of the pain, then you were inclined to feel better. Was it logical to conclude and to respond that he was alright? Matthew still didn't know, because if that is so, then that would make everyone (including Papa Francis) weird and abnormal, thus making Matthew the only normal one in the world. However, wasn't being unique the opposite of normal?

How confusing. Being human was so complicated.

Author's Notes:

1. I don't really have much to say, except to ask you (the reader) a question, not for the sake of monopolizing reviews but to have a wide variety of answers for the question; Describe your definition of pain? Physical or emotional, either one works. I want to incorporate these diverse ideas of what it means to be in pain or what pain itself is for the future chapters. Please explain your response and examples as if you're explaining it to someone like Matthew. Thank you!