Even after all I have done for them, even after all I have given up for the people, and they still believe that I am insane. My whole life I have been searching for cures, but now that I have found the cure to the worst disease of all.... life. I have spent my life observing people slaving away hopelessly blind to the outside world and the terrors it beholds. Still these people are too naive to understand my work, no my life work! Is just to help them... It all started with my brother.

Many years ago he was told he had been told he was dying of tuberculosis, and I saw in his eyes pleading me for the end. He was in pain, agonizing pain. I was an educated young man and I knew when suffering became too much to bear. I knew at once that I had to end his suffering; I had to save him from the pain of life. So that night I started my career of saving people from the horror of living.

Of course I was saddened by his passing but I had a surge of pleasure knowing I saved him from his pain… his suffering. No one questioned me about his death, they just saw it as if he finally passed away. That night of his passing the flame of ambition was lit, my calling beckoned to me.

My parents of course were overwhelmed with grief, couldn’t bear with the sadness. My father fell into a drinking binge and often came home in fits of rage… often ending in violence. Poor mother started to become frailer and frailer, each time father came home she seemed to have all the life torn from her very soul.

This is when the second “tragedy’” in my family occurred. My father in one of his drunken rages fell from the balcony of our home, dying on impact. But when people thought he died of a fall, no one saw the deep wound in his back. To this day that letter opener is still buried in the garden tainted with old terrible memories.
My mother was a smart woman she knew that father never would have fallen, and there was one letter opener missing. But mother loved me and could not bear with another loss, so she sent me off. Not to punish me but to protect me, to a private school. But in my naïve youth I assumed it was punishment and often curse her name any time that memory surfaced.
All of my peers were kind, they all knew of my losses and felt sorry for me. But my young self did not want their pity, I wanted their admiration. But one boy loathed me, a street rat whose only way for attention is acting out with violence. At the time we were studying anatomy together. A horrible accident happened that night he slipped falling down shattering his skull on the table but not dead.
From that night on my “friends” as they called themselves started avoiding me. I knew why, they thought death plagued me, taking people away with an invisible force. I started to feel isolated, feared, abandoned. From that point on my true purpose never seemed clearer.
I finished the year of school and moved on, deciding for my future I went to medical school. Every day I looked forward to class, the human body fascinated me, and even more how it worked on the inside. Eventually one day the books we read just did not cure my curiosity and my only friend was told he would die of diseases in weeks. Early in the morning of the day he would leave school he helped me understand so much more about life… and death.

I still continued my schooling, and three months after the incident my studies ended and I returned to the world a new person… a new man. Even though what I was taught, the requirement for people of my expertise was low, very low. I had to take a job as a meager farmer.

I was not yet accustom to this life, but I knew it was only temporary in my journey to greatness. The wages were meager, but the family that owned the farm was kind. These people had become a new family for me, not just viewing me as an outsider trying to earn a living. For the first time in my life I was happy, but all good things come to an end.

I still remember the crisp fall day, that horrible day. I had just finished my daily work and was walking home when I heard a bone chilling scream. I ran towards the noise fearing the worst, trying to deny what I already expected. Finally arriving at the small house of the farmer’s I saw that the glass was shattered, the door kicked in and a bloody trail leading away.

I raced in and at once saw the cowering form of the farmer’s wife over his body. After I was able to pry her away she explained that one of the other farm hands was trying to rob them. The farmer was only able to wound the madman before he was killed, but in the process he was able to save his beloved one who watched in horror as this all occurred.

I became enraged. Blood lust consumed me as I raced after the bloody trail, grabbing a single knife on my way out. I followed the trail for hours, until I finally came upon his crumpled form, slowly approaching with my knife in hand. I made him suffer not quickly but a long agonizing pain that I have had to bear all these years. Slowly I saw the life drain out of his eyes, begging me for death but it would not come. I left him there alone, abandoned.
The farmer’s wife fell into a deep shock, one that she regrettably never came out of. The farm eventually could not support itself any more and I was forced to move away, leaving her in that hands of other. To this day I still wonder what has become of her.

It was a long journey back to the city; I sat there pondering over what I would do when I arrived. Then I thought back to my mother, how she sent me away… betrayed me. I planed on confronting her on why she did this to me, why she has caused my life to be consumed with grief.

I walked to the point where I thought my life was ruined, preparing myself for the worst as I knocked on the door. To my surprise I was greeted by an old withered figure, with open arms pleading for me to come in. After I slowly came to my senses I found out it had been my mother, cursed by her guilt to age years in just months.
Slowly, ever so slowly my anger started to melt away into pity and sympathy. She told me how she feared of my safety and that sending me away was the only way she could protect me. At this point I realized she knew what I had done all of those years ago.

She was generous, she bought me a small apartment in the city and the necessary tools I needed to perform my trade. I finial could start the work I had trained for. At first business was slow… too slow. But then a wonderful thing happened, a plague struck. People flocked in the hundreds to see me. Every time a sick crumpled form came before me I cured it of two things, what they asked me to cure… and life.

I am not a sick man I did not want to see these people suffer, so I made it painless but a long death. If I was caught I knew these people would never be cured. Just a tiny cut and the process would start, their body’s would piece by piece start to shut down and the greatest part no one expected it was me.

I worked on many people, never assuming that I would be helping them more than they would expect. Though my work would not last forever, the amount of people I saw each day decreased until I was out of work again. At this point I lost everything; it was the lowest point in my journey to greatness I have ever faced.

I was forced to move back in with mother, I was humiliated but not defeated. She welcomed me back with open arms. Day after day, month after month. My life seemed to be falling down the abyss of despair.

It became more and more obvious that my work was not going unnoticed. More and more people started to ask questions of what happened. I heard every whisper, every accusation. Then the day came when the accusations started to be directed towards me.

The next weeks I waited in fear knowing my time was coming. The day came like any other. I was walking to the market; my regular rout seemed strangely lonely. I should have known that something was wrong; the moment I stepped into the square I saw them. I knew what they were here for but I did not fight them.

They took me away; they saw what I did as crimes. Their barbaric minds could not comprehend the greatness I have done for this world. They have all prolonged the suffering of all.

After all I have done for these people, all I have given up for them they still see me as a monster. I have thought about my actions over and over again not seeing any faults. I am done trying to help others, trying to cure them. From this day forwards I vow that I will only help my self, I will finally cure myself from the horrors of life.