What does it mean to be human? Is it defined by the four limbs that carry us through this world, by the intellect that distinguishes us from other creatures, or by the perseverance that drives us to overcome insurmountable odds? Or perhaps, it is found in the emotions we experience, hate, rage, sorrow, joy—that give life its depth and complexity.
From the moment I drew my first breath, I was confronted with these questions, yet I found no answers. The truth, as I see it, is that humans are fragile beings. We lack the hard shells of armadillos, the claws of tigers, the sharp teeth of predators. We exist as anomalies, surrounded by beasts endowed with strength and ferocity from birth.
Humans are weak, so weak that we can be undone by the lightest blow, like sheep wandering in a world crafted for wolves. But I am an anomaly within this anomaly. No beast can challenge me, no human can surpass me, no demon can daunt me, and no other can stand in my way.
I am destined to rise above. It is my duty to the world to do so. I deserve to lead humanity to salvation. I am meant to be the keeper of our kind.
Yet, when I speak to other humans, their eyes reflect only fear. They treat me as though I am a beast, despite the fact that I appear human. I, too, have four limbs. I, too, experience emotions. I, too, am human.
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But humanity turned its back on me, and so I sought solace among the beasts. When they rejected me, I turned to the demons. The demons, too, cast me out, and I sought refuge with the others. But even they shunned me, leaving me with no one but myself to turn to.
I think I understand what I feel, the humans I've observed reflect such an emotion.
Loneliness, the lack of someone, of something.
I feel incomplete, I feel inadequate, I feel as though I was born for no reason.
For what purpose do I exist? all I do is eat and sleep. The humans in the villages gather food, hunt and sleep. But they also spend times of joy, of bond, of togetherness.
Perhaps if I wasn't born it may have been better.
I should die.
No, I should't. Death is an even more pointless endeavour then life. After all death is scary, death is...
Relief?
Perhaps I should choose a god to worship. Humans often spend their time worshipping deities, and yet I fear worship as well. If I worship, do I worship the human gods, the beast gods, the demon gods?
Maybe I am a coward.
I should seek beyond, beyond the forest, the villages, the demons. I should seek beyond even the stars.
And now, I fear that I may shun myself. Where did I go wrong? What grievous sin have I committed to be cast out so completely? At what point did I lose my humanity?
These questions haunt me, as I wander, an outcast in a world that refuses to accept me. Perhaps it is not the world that has changed, but I who have drifted too far from the very essence of what it means to be human.
Perhaps someday I will recover what I once lost.
Perhaps someday I will know who I am.