I just stood there, silently observing until the last of my associates had disappeared; with a sigh, I gathered my equipment, donned my backpack--much lighter than my heart--and departed into the gathering darkness.
I trudged homeward through the streets of Ta-Metru, alone--as always I was. I passed only the occasional Matoran in the streets, but they ignored me, just like everyone else did. To them--to everyone in Metru-Nui--I was just one of those nameless, unidentified beings one meets every day.
"All by myself," I moaned quietly, "as always."
As soon as I reached my hut, I tossed my pack in the general direction of somewhere and plopped down on my bed, where I lay in my typical state of grief, reflecting upon my lack of companionship and wishing I had someone to confide in.
Then again, I weened miserably, if I had someone to confide in, my problems would be solved. But I had not. I had no friends, not even any good acquaintances.
"You are alone in this wide, empty world." I let out a deep sigh. "Just throw yourself in the furnace tomorrow"--my typical suggestion--"I doubt if anyone would notice. Your employer wouldn't care. Nobody would. Yes, just do that."
I always decided to follow this course of action--yet I always backed down. Every time something, deep down, restrained me. I could never bring myself to do it. Something always told me it would be an injustice.
To whom? I wondered silently. To yourself? It would be salvation. To Metru-Nui? Nobody would notice or care!
The usual justification of my decision. Still, I never went through with it. Something always told me, That is not your destiny.
"Then what is?" I asked myself. "To live on, all by myself, toiling day by day, living a life of amphigory? Hardly a destiny!"
But your destiny is so much more than that, said that voice from within. Everyone will know your name. You will be great. You will stand tall, strong, and proud. Someday, you will be a hero.
"Yeah, right." I turned over in my bed, resigning himself to sleep. But it would not come; my mind and heart were too heavy with self-pity. Words echoed in my mind: You will stand tall, strong and proud. . . . You are alone in this wide, empty world. . . . Someday, you will be a hero. . . .
"You will never be a hero," I muttered to myself. "You will never be anything. You will always be all by yourself. Always worthless, lonesome Ta-Matoran Lhikan. . . ."
Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith