"A stranger, that's what I am. I'm a stranger to the world into which I was thrown without warning and am now expected to be part of, without ever being taught how, and I'm a stranger to myself, whoever that is. I am numb to the core, to the very foundation that is me, the spine that holds up my body is rotting, crumbling beneath my flesh. My hands are cold and trembling, constantly reaching out for your voice in this all-consuming darkness, never having grasped anything but thin air. My mind has clawed my eyes sore and heavy, and I desire nothing but my bed sheets, the sweet taste of either death or your lips, - I can't seem to decide. Yet here I am, sucking air into my still working lungs. And I couldn't for the life of me, or rather the lack of life in me, tell you why."