Since childhood, he had been able to see things other people couldn't: what people commonly called monsters.
His far-from-idyllic life, lonely childhood, and ability that ordinary people couldn't understand gradually wore him down, until he began avoiding contact with others.
What had he done wrong? Why was he the only one who could see those things? Why were they always haunting him? Why was he the only one passed around by relatives, with no place to call home?
But none of that mattered anymore.
Because he had already met another person like himself.
[This story is primarily healing, with occasional wacky comedy.]
More, I like it?, Hehe