Author's Note: Written in-character of my fictional character, Michael Liu.

Silent tears run down my cheeks. I want to cry out in anger and frustration, but I won't let myself. Hatred consumes me and tears apart my heart, making what's left of it into a festering wound. All around me, people point and stare at the "freak". They don't understand how much this hurts. I despise myself for people so different. Hatred fuels the growing passion deep within me, a lust for revenge. If it doesn't stop, 'twill soon be my demise – even someone hurt as I am knows that much! People don't realize that I have feelings, very real ones. Just because I've willed myself to keep them to myself doesn't mean I don't have them. I've locked myself in a darkened room with thick walls, only my hatred to accompany me for the long hours of being tormented. Alone.

I hear echoes of people's voices in my head. They tell me I cannot do anything right. I can't be as sociable as Scott or Tyler or get good grades like Samantha or Evan. That I'll never be good at anything… and even the things that I'm not bad at, most people are still better. That I can't make good grades in school because I'm… stupid. I want to prove these voices – these people – wrong. I'm choking on those suppressed sobs, those emotions that have been under that strict control because I'm scared out of my wits of what they'll do if I let them go. My whole body shakes violently as my mental shields collapse. But the tears are still held back. Even in this dark room… all alone… those anguished, silent tears tear at the core of my inner being.

I long to be free and to see the light of day and to hear Samantha laugh in my presence again. I need stability; I am a creature of duty and have been trained to be reserved, yet few of my kind go this far and maintain this level of control. If-if I loose that, what will happen to the delicate balance that my life is on? That equilibrium wasn't easy to build. But sometimes, I do really hate myself. Like now. Sure, I know that it is illogical to hate someone for something they have no control over. Yet I can't help wonder what it's like to be normal – and to wish I was. Or even if there's a normal. Resentment boils up inside of me everytime I think of that. A tear drop falls onto the concrete floor. Another falls, landing in my mouth and tasting strongly of salt. I grit my teeth together and clench my fist, digging my fingernails into my palm hard enough to draw blood. I hate crying. But I hate deailing with those silent tears of anguish and resentment even more. Well… life isn't easy, but it's life, I suppose.