I sat at the kitchen table, a knife in hand. I stabbed my toast in frustration, it was only a butter knife but I was angry. I pulled the knife out of the slice and began spreading strawberry jam across. I started thinking again, something I do far too often. I sighed and bit it into my toast, the sweetness tingled on my tongue. I heard my mother call my name.

"James, dearie? Why are you eating this late, it's almost lunchtime. Hurry up, we are going to lunch."

I flinched at the word dearie, I hated it. I could tell it wasn't used affectionately no matter how hard my mother tried to sugar coat it. I was a failure by her standards. She never said it but I knew. I could see the pain in her eyes. My mother wanted a daughter, but she got me, she still loved me deepily, I could tell but there was a deep saddness in her heart, maybe even regret. I wasn't even a normal boy. Ha ha, far from that. I yawned and got up from the kitchen table. I hadn't slept well last night, but even now I hadn't got used to the tiredness. Slipping on my boots, a jumper, and my favourite beanie. I followed her out the door to the car.

"Why do you insist on always wearing that?" She said to me adjusting the rear view mirror. She looked at me in the reflection then applied some lipstick.

"I'm cold," I told her. Shivers tingled up my spine, my body aching all the time. I'm always cold. I sat grumpily in the back as I hated going out, there were so many people out there. No, don't get me wrong I don't hate people themselves, it's just how they make me feel.

Ever look at someone, and wonder what's their story. Well, I sometimes wonder if anyone else can feel how I feel. No one can feel me but I can feel the pain, not of just me but everyone. I understand it. It's like I speak the language but no one else seems to.

It's hard to live with, I've tried to runaway, but my departure caused much pain in my family, and even my friends. It turns out they do love me, somewhat, freak or not, or perhaps it was the pain of having to fill out forms because of me.

I've tried to separate myself from others not get to attached, but yet I crave some sort of companionship, which isn't fortunate when you're a freak like me. I have friends who love me very much but I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I love them but...

"We're here," announced my mother, snapping me out of the thoughts once again. She had pulled up infront of a café. "Come James," she insists. " It will be fun."

Fun? I laughed weakily to myself. Look at all the people. My heart began to ache, and I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I found this helped to me centre my thoughts, getting to deeply lost in other peoples pain was not enjoyable, no matter how much I hated them. No person should enjoy such torture.  I didn't want anyone to suffer. My life was like a piece of disorted broken glass. I could see peoples pain, yet they could not see mine.

Mum got out of the car, grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the door. I pulled my beanie around my ears, trying to ignore everyone. I concentrated on song lyrics trying to pour my emotions into the words. I'd gotten better over the years of controlling and lulling the pain, yet this was still no casual stroll in the park.

I'm a broken biscuit
From the cookie jar
I'm a total misfit
In the puzzle that's so far

Then some of the pain hit me as I heard the voices, dog died, hates her parents, his husband is dead. Wait, they weren't even married.  I stared at the ground. I didn't want to make eye contact, as these feelings were only echoes of the true pain.

We reached a seat, a booth to be precise and we sat down. I continued to stare down at the floor, fiddling with my fingers. I recalled when I first realised I was different in a moment of reflection. I was seven years old. All the other kids were running around screaming, without a care in the world. They played their games which looked like fun. No one wanted to play with me but I was okay with that. I sat under these two trees peacefully. It was until one day, this girl came up and smiled to me. She'd fallen over and scraped her knee. I looked at her and suddenly my knee began to sting yet there was nothing there...

"James," snapped my mother. "Stop day dreaming, what do you want?"

I yawned and looked up to her, she nodded, glaring at me. "I'll have ah, um a salad."

My mother rolled her eyes and aplogised to the waiter, "He's a vegetarian."

The waiter just weakily smiled and jotted down the details, then walked away. I could feel my mum glaring at me, so I looked away. I was a vegetarian, which wasn't a strange thing but my family seemed to treat it like that. If anything that was the most normal thing about me.

There was a young girl sitting across the room from me probably about my age, I was guessing. She sat in a group of friends, and she was laughing. I sighed, sometimes very rarely I could feel a bit of the happiness too. I can't just surround myself with happy people unfortunately, life doesn't work like that. No one is that positive. If you think you know someone who's always happy look again.

I realised, I was staring and I met eyes with the girl in the middle. Her blonde hair was beautiful and framed her face but there was something about her blue eyes. Then it hit me. You know how emotions are used described as waves, well this one was a tidal wave. This girl, she felt so sad, and alone inside. She was so surrounded by friends just... I felt the deep emptiness feeling inside and my heart was aching. I could only meet her eyes for a few brief seconds. As I said before, no one is truly happy. I'm definitely the optimist here.

The waiter came back and produced a salad for me, it was fruit. I guess they didn't do much salad here, it was a café afterall. Hmmph, people should really be more thoughtful, I've been a vegetarian since my primary school went to the farm. Just knowing where most food came from, it was horrifying. Animals can feel pain too. It's horrifying just walking by a butchers, if I was normal I could just be ignorant among with the rest of people. Here I go with my sob story again, I scolded myself.

Pain, pain will go away but it'll come back again another day...

I began to nibble on the fruit, thank goodness fruit and vegetables don't feel pain, or at least not in the way I can register. They have no nervous system or brain, afterall. I started to feel sick inside because of this, I must be insane as no one else would think about this. I considered becoming a fruitiarian, most of them only eat fruit, nuts and seeds that have fallen naturally from the plant, but that would make me even more of a freak. Yep, I'm definitely crazy here.

I looked up to my mother who was sipping her coffee, as everything was normal. I began to hum to myself, closing my eyes and began to sing Broken Biscuit in my head once again.

I'm standing on the edge of your words
That is where you'll find me
I'm paralysed by all the things that hurt
But I'm coming

I finished the last of my fruit salad, it was decent. I waited for Mum to finish her coffee and whatever that thing she was eating. Tapping the table nervously, eventually we headed back home. Finally I could be alone. I'd been longing for my bed the whole time. I just wanted to fall asleep forever.