HATED HUMAN

Damon's P.O.V.

I don't understand humans.

Don't get their morals, don't get the way they think. I don't get their abundant stupidity.

They are so fucking stupid.

I let my gaze return to the old man who is still shouting at me, one fat finger pointed in my direction while he tries to 'put me in my place'.

I zone out. Amelia claims I do that a lot, sometimes too much.

It was something I mastered as a kid. If I don't and allow myself to actually listen to people, I get angry. The anger caused by the bullshit people usually spew on a day-to-day basis.

So I zone out, for their own safety.

I look across at Peter who was sitting next to me, in a wooden, office chair identical to my own. He was crying. Peter was always fucking crying. I don't understand how it's possible to cry this much, to still have so many tears in such a tiny body.