PHASE 90 - I'LL NEVER LET GO OF YOUR HAND AGAIN
Blood crawls on the side of my face. My black hair is now stained by my own plasma, as well as the white robes I'm wearing. For a moment, the throwing of the stones stopped, giving me a breather on this nightmarish night.
I briefly glanced forward and saw the townspeople still staring at me with disgust. For them, I'm worse than a pile of crap. They want to get rid of me, but they know they can't. All they can do is hurt me physically.
Deep inside myself, I keep on saying that this is fine. For me, being hurt physically is okay as long as they don't break my mind. This is the fourth torturous night, and my nerves are getting used to the pain. It's like I can slightly ignore the wounds I've been getting now. I can last through this night and look for a bright tomorrow.