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Awful, this headache is awful. It reaches from my frontal lobe to occipital lobe in a god-awful throbbing sensation. I can't tell if my eyes are deceiving me when I see shadowy figures lurking in my peripheral. Or when my hands and fingers sink a little too deeply in my bones. The world tumbles over, and over, and over with no mercy. While the voices ram themselves against the cochlea. Clamoring, raging. My eyes were essentially on the verge of popping. Hell, my whole head would pop from the sheer pressure building up inside.
 
Yet at the touch of a hand, the chaos was soothed and hushed to a corner. For a moment, the ticking bomb state of my mind was frozen in time.
 
It was Louki's hand.
 
She caressed my head in a solemn silence. I couldn't read her expression. Pity? Sorrow? Was she even capable of feeling anything other than indifference? I'm afraid I don't have an answer for that. For all the years I spent inside that library, there still appears to be questions I don't know the answer to. What a thought.
 
When was the last time someone had... Have I ever felt the touch of someone else? Curse myself. I suppose if I had to lose my mind to be treated like this, I would lose my mind anytime.
 
Kazek Korhonen Whedlen