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I feel as though a javelin has impaled me, from my back. But the thing is though, that the javelin's invisible and if you hide it well enough, the blood is too. The trick is to walk on like before, as if life couldn't be better, with your head held high even though it hurts, even though you want nothing more than to collapse and cry out your pain. That you want nothing more than to ask some seemingly kind stranger to take out the javelin and dress your wounds. But I think that when it pierced through my flesh, it impaled my heart as well. It's lifeless now, blood running dry from its vessels, my body left to live on only pain and miserable tortures.