A/N: I'm not sure how much I'll expand on this. But here's what I have.


Davey braced himself as he walked out into the street. He lived in a rather populated part of California, and it was always full of traffic. He could hardly walk anywhere, and it was impossible to get around in a car. He hated where he lived, but that was just one of those things everyone hated and wished were different.

He slowly walked down the street and around the corner, an old ritual, to the café. People bumped into him and nearly knocked him over several times, but he pressed on. Upon reaching the café he swung open the door and walked in. People glared at him and his appearance as he walked through the shop till he sat down at a table next to the window.

He gazed out the window and watched people heading out of the church across the street. He had once been a Christian himself. A Lutheran to be exact. He never really questioned any of the beliefs until he went through confirmation. Then he found out what he was saying when he said "I'm a Lutheran". After that he never said anything like that again or go to church.

He watched the small children, led at their mothers and fathers, walk away from the church smiling and laughing. They didn't know what any of that meant; they were forced to pray to something they didn't have the mental capacity to understand, yet. Would they end up living a lie or walking away? He remembered how everyone treated him like the lost lamb after he refused to take part in any religious matter.

Next he watched an elderly couple walk slowly down the street. He always felt sorry for elderly people, so close to death. You could know everything about death and still not be ready when the time comes. He remembered once when he had volunteered at a nursing home. He had visited an old woman, who was incapable of getting out of bed. She had told him her life's story in about ten minutes. She said she had lived a good life, but did not wish to die yet. When he asked if she had any children or grandchildren, she had replied no. Only a few days later he found out the woman had died, when he stumbled upon her bibliography in the newspaper. She had died alone in the world. He cried for the first time in years after this, wishing that dieing alone wasn't a fact for everyone. He remembered his dear grandmother and nana, who had died when he was only fifteen years old. She never got to have any great grandchildren, for she loved children with all her heart.

Now he watched a boy, who looked about eighteen, standing outside with a short sleeved t-shirt on in what was an all time low in California. It was freezing for someone who had lived in California all his or her life. He could tell by looking at the kid he was a major druggie. When he was in high school, he had been surrounded by people who did drugs. Everyone had their own drug they did. He was always pushed around by druggies, by his best friends gone wrong. He had seen what drugs could do too many times to do any himself. He had found his music around that time. Music was his salvation. In which he had been set free.

He broke his gaze from the boy just in time to see a guy walk by whom he knew all too well. This guy was the reason he had been driven away from his best friend. "He" had come between them, and he said nothing in the end to his friend. Instead, the two friends had gone their different ways and hadn't said a word to each other in over a year. Davey remembered when his friend had said he was going to the concert with "him". He remembered the look of prolonged uneasiness that played on his face. They had both always gone to concerts and shows together, but no more. Davey knew after this it was over. The "other" had won. And now he watched "him" walk along laughing with some other people he didn't know. "He" probably had dumped his friend by now. He seemed the type to never finish anything.

Impact he underlined in his notebook. Then he began to scribble the mathematical equations for perhaps a punch. He filled two whole pages with his scribbling before he stopped, realizing his palm was bleeding from where he had held the pencil so tightly. He rubbed his eyes and face and banged his head on the table. He wasn't done yet, and he didn't know what came next. People began to gasp and someone raised their voice complaining about him. He quickly jumped up and shakily walked out of the café.

As he walked along on the street, he could almost feel the wind drying the blood on his face that he had smeared there. He pulled down his sleeve a bit and grasped it tightly around his palm, trying to stop the bleeding. With his clean hand he ran his fingers through his hair, trembling as he did so. He couldn't stop his hand from shaking, and he began to think people probably thought he was Ozzy Osbourne.

Everything in life is made for pain. Love is made for pain.his thoughts drifted back. There she was again, haunting his memories. Love is a ghost. He remembered her smile, her laugh, her touch.and he remembered how she left him. She had warned him, but he didn't listening. He was so in love with her, he couldn't listen. In the end, she was right. And she left him alone in the world. The disease took her, before he could know it and say goodbye. But most of all he remembered that last night. She lie on the floor after she collapsed, her eyes rolling around. Finally she was able to focus them on him, but he only regretted it. Her eyes looked at him like it was his fault almost, and they flashed with sorrow and pity. The words everyone says was all he could say "You're going to be alright.". She danced her lips the last time and the words poured out of her mouth. "It's all a dream right?"

Yes, he was made for pain. He had lived that one day that you're glad you're alive, but now that was spent. He could hardly handle facing anyone, may it be his best friends. He felt a mass of a dead body on him, and the musical setting for this. And he was still alone in the world. But he refused to die alone.

A/N: That's all for now. I don't know if I'll write anymore on this. It depends if I get enough feedback. There's not much I can say on this.so I guess I'll wait it out.