It had been a long and grueling year. I watched as the people of my village die from the horrible disease. I watched my family look down at me in disappointment each time another soul was lost. I felt the burden of being the only healer in the village and how bad I was at healing. I needed to step out side for minute, to breathe in fresh airs, not air masked but death. I stepped out and began walking towards the edge of trail. Beneath me was an endless ocean. I looked up at the sky, tears began to form around my eyes. I could hear my mother’s voice echo throughout my mind.

“What are you doing to these poor people!” My mother cried out when she saw me carrying the limp body of a child.

“I’m trying to save them”, I cried back, my face wet from tears. I was trying, but trying wasn’t enough.

“No! You just killing them!” My mother ran off. I stood still in my tracks, I am killing them?

I’m not really helping anyone. I look to the sea below me, of I can’t live up to my role, then what good is it of me to still exist? No one sees me trying to save these people, they just see me as a mistake. I’m just making things worst. I looked up at the setting sun.

“Gods? Can you hear me? What role do you want of me? Ours am I even supposed to be here in the first place?” I prayed, my hands together.

Nothing. No words, no feeling, just the quiet swishing of water as it hit the bricks. I sighed in defeat. Do you even exist Gods? I thought. I took one step forward. My foot standing in the air. They is nothing for me in this world, no body even wants me. I’m no use, so they is no use in living. Jumped forwards, maybe dieing is my role I’m suppose to fulfill. Maybe then I can finally make people happy.