Why I loathe public transportation with an undying passion

I miss my family. The trip home is taking to long. My aunt misses me, and I miss her. She's such a sweet woman, probably lonely right now without me. My uncle stays out to late and drinks to much to make good company in the evenings. He has never hurt her, but a drunk is only good company to his kindred. I haven't been on the bus terribly long but long enough to notice that tingle across my feet from the metal floor. The man sitting in front of me seems to have a fever, he keeps hiding his face, peering around, almost scared. I hope he is alright, I may approach him later, though you can never be to careful nowadays.

Act 4 (Revision) (The Heartless Bastard Take II)

I'm screaming on the inside. Help me. It all hurts. I can't feel my heart. I can't feel my limbs. I can't feel my soul.

Why was I born?

Out of impulse.