John Turners first and Final note to himself:

This is my suicide note. And this is what my suicide wrote.

From the time when the red strips left my soul striped.

From the instant when fate rolled it's thirty one sided die. And decided that I would not die.

I would only cry.

I wished that I could have wings. And fly to a happy place beyond the sky.

But when I looked behind myself. I saw no wings. Only shadows.

But I still wanted to escape. From this life of painful lies. This life of failed tries.

So I did the math. I found the path, and I found the price.

Three dollars and fifteen cents. That is the price to change a life.

The way I got the money was not very nice. I stole it from a dark knight with a knife.

But the sin was worth the price, for I moved to a new place in life.

But in this place, you still had to sacrifice time to live. And my time was worth very little.

So, I began my career of flipping meat. And I saved, for I would be saved as I saved.

I found my way into a school one day.

In that school, some people would Say hey.

And I would ask the sky to let me grow wings and fly.

Some even said I was a pretty great guy.

The lies made me want to cry.

I didn't try. To fly.

I did not commit. Sue-e-cide.

Eventually, I escaped that time.

Some said that I was too big of a guy.

I swear I did not cry.

I did not want to fly.

I did not commit. Sue-e-cide.

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I was forever a boy with no wings looking to the sky.

Wondering. I was always wondering.

When was it my turn to die?

.

…

...

...…

John's bones were bending and cracking. John had just been struck with more force than he imagined possible.

CRASH

He slammed through a wall of pure stone. His bones began to groan.

Fuck

John moaned in pain. His body was twisted and bent. His arms and left leg were like jello. He didn't feel a thing from them. It was almost like they had been chopped off.

The rest of his body was wrapped in a bellowing vest of pain. It stabbed into his ribs and gripped his heart.

"I would say go fuck yourself for what you did. But based upon your current state. I'm pretty sure you've already fucked yourself."

John looked up at that voice.

Before him was a person who was a facsimile of Joe. He had Joe's facial structure. He was Joe's height. He had the same build as Joe.

He had that same aura of death that Joe had. His voice was like Joe's.

But he did not look one bit like Joe.

The word pain was repetitively cut into his body. It was everywhere. His face, his chest. His legs. His arms. And it wasn't any tattoo. They weren't even scars. Joe's body was covered in open wounds.

W.....

With a look of sheer confusion, John looked up at Joe.

"What?" John asked slowly

Joe scowled at him.

"You did something that no person should ever do," Joe said

John couldn't help but bite his lip.

It's not like John did anything wrong. All he wanted to do was fly.

"Haaaaaaa. Let's at least take a look then." Joe said

He pulled a book from thin air.

Written on the book was a single word that was scrawled in red letters.

Pain.

It was the blank book that John had seen Joe eating pages from. But John had never known that book to have a name.

When John first saw the book it had some pages. Now, it was so full of them that the bindings almost couldn't withstand them.

"FUCK!" John bellowed a scream. Something was gripping him. Not his body. Not his bones. It was gripping his very soul itself.

It felt as though it was tearing something from him.

I pulled at his soul's flesh. Separating the skin, slowly dividing the nerves and constricting the veins.

John squirmed from the pain. His vision went white from the pain. His body's strength started to drain from the pain.

And then the flesh was gone.

And Joe's book had new pages.

"This is skirting the regulations. But whatever." Joe shrugged as he ripped the new pages from the book. He placed them onto his tongue.

Then he began to chew.

His face was twisted into a deep frown as he did so.

After a few seconds of chewing, he made a loud gulping sound. He had swallowed the paper.

Joe's eyes lit up with realization.

"Okay. So you killed and ate most of your siblings."

John's heart leaped from his chest. And continued to sail over the moon and past the sun.

"Huuuuuuu. How?" John murmured

Joe smiled.

He held the book up right next to his head.

"I know pain. I am pain. I've been beaten; I've been raped, I've been murdered, abused, manipulated. I've been through it all. Because the second I eat this book. It get the memories of all the bad." Joe said

This wasn't a time when even the slightest drop of happiness should be possible. But for some reason, John still felt a little happy.

John knew from the pain he felt in his soul that what Joe said was true. The memories had been ripped straight from him.

That means that Joe understood. He knew what it was like. More than anyone. And that meant he would also know the natural next step.

"If you know. Then kill me." John looked up at Joe; John's bloody lips were curled into a slight smile.

Joe Just glared.

"No."

John's lips curled back in sheer confusion.

If he had been through the same thing...

Then why couldn't he just understand and let John die?