Chapter 1
Start writing here…I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, somehow it gets heavier day to walk the line. I feel everything and nothing at all. I beg for a release from this bitter existence. I’m lonely but I hate everybody. Can you feel it too? The bitterness of touch, the skin on skin contact with exhaustion. Exhausted by every single temporary or permanent tangible trinkets. My body, these pretty things are only temporary but the ache in my soul is permanent. I know my world feels it too, one can tell by the warning signs. This entails something big is coming, I can feel it.
I am able to touch the sin that runs in peoples veins that fill with malice. Not necessarily evil, more like chaotic. I am called a sin eater or something that is far much worse. The aching agony I feel is not from my own heart but from others. I feel their pain, their burden and so on.
In my younger years I believed the sin I felt from others was from of this world, the people that took up crowded spaces. Now I’m not so sure. I’m thoroughly convinced the sin is not of this realm. Perhaps from another dimension that I have a strange connection too.
It is strange indeed. My sorrows aren’t always that deep in every waking moment, only at odd times when I feel I’m not alone. I could be sitting in a room with four cold, dark walls and I feel a hundred eyes on me. Shivers run down my spine. I feel something grab me, I do not hesitate to endure a panic attack. It’s gotten better - the anxiety, but the fear still lingers. I know one forsaken day, whatever is able to touch me - whom does not possess a physical body, will take me to their own layer of hell.
I’m used to this feeling of terror. Frightened and prepared to fight or flight is breaching in my bones. Consuming me. This is a curse you see, placed upon me before I was born. Destined for greater things they say, I say fated to death itself.
Who am I? I’m a mischievous being in a human body for now. Until I move on from this realm, I’m stuck feeling the sorrows of the sinful. Possibly the dead, I’ve considered every alternative you see. I’m reckless and I want to live but metaphorical chains clasp onto me, dragging me down to the pits of the abyss.
I could tell you the years of acceptance of my empathy, however I will simply start to tell you the tale of my search for salvation which begins around the time I got lost in the middle of nowhere.
