People said that in order to gain something, you would have to pay it with something of the same value. It was supposed to be fair. It was supposed to be equal. I thought about it harder but I never saw it to be equal.

Some people can study the same amount of material in the same amount of time yet one could get higher than the other, which is most often the case if you compare a genius and an average person. The same grade, the same judgement could not be given because one was academically better than the other.

Even so, there are some things you can gain without putting any effort. A simple hello with another person could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. A photograph taken ought of one's whim could bring so much joy to others. A simple phone call could bring tremendous hope.

Equivalent trade was no more. It only made sense in games and other such activities but it never made sense in real life. Equivalent trade was both a powerful force to be reckoned with and to embrace, a force human intellect would probably never be able to grasp.

My knees buckled as I fell to the ground, my body short of air. I had suffered countless of times yet I refused to give up. I had worked much too hard, suffered too many times to even think of giving up. Grasping what I could, I lifted myself up and limped forward.

I could see my goal right in front of me, glistening in the sunlight. I still had two feet, I could still walk to my goal, even if I had to struggle and push myself even harder to do so. If I could walk, I would to reach whatever was at the end of the dark tunnel.

My eyes glistened with happiness as I took the final step, stumbling down again in the process. Within my reach was my prize. Stretching out my arm, I grasped it, its coolness running through my fingertips. A satisfied smile found its way to my face. On two feet I managed to get this far and on the same two feet, I will go even further.

The sun's bright rays toughed and burned my body, my skin screaming in pain and agitation. I refused to let it bother me as I continued to dig, the skin on my hands raw because of the work. Sweat trickled down my face, the droplets falling on the dry earth as my brow furrowed. Rumor had it there was a diamond somewhere around here.

I woke up early in the morning to find the spot I thought the diamond would be found and to beat the other treasure hunters who would definitely try to come here. I had dug in at least twelve different places and it was already nearing noon, the time where the sun shone the brightest.

Suddenly, my hands felt something hard. It was different from a rock or a clump of dried earth. It felt cold to the touch. Frantically, I dug even faster, hope glimmering in my eyes. Soon enough, I had unearthed it. A diamond hidden in the vast desert.

A satisfied smile found its way to my face as I rubbed the sweat on my brow with the back of my hand, dirt smearing on my face. I didn't mind that I looked haggard. I had found what I was looking for. It served to be patient or to look around in the options given. After all, one of them could be a diamond in the rough like the one in my hand.

The darkness was neverending as shards of sharp water splattered painfully across the skin of my body. My dark tresses stuck to my face as my pale skin seemed white against the darkness of the night. I loved the rain and I hated it so. It was lovely because I felt like I was being cleansed. It was horrible because it was cold, dark and unwelcoming. And yet, I loved it more than I hated it.

The coldness of the water felt like heaven to me, despite the pain it brought to my senses. The water falling down to the earth was like watching millions of diamonds falling down from the heavens. The rain is most beautiful when it ends.

The clouds part, the sun shines and the birds begin to sing. A smile tugs on my lips as I raise my eyes to the brightening sky. Sometimes, I'm lucky to see something colorful up in the sky, reassuring me everything was alright. A bright, beautiful rainbow stood against the stark blue of the sky.

It's just me and a sword now, no one else beside me. It's dark outside, raining heavily and the occasional peals of thunder accompanied with lightning, lighting up the dark sky momentarily. My eyes look at the shining blade of silver before me. It is my release from this pain, the recompense they offer me for everything I've gone through.

Tear trails shine against my face, the skin beneath my eyes blackening as I continue to cry. No one ever seemed to care about how I felt. It's too easy to insult me and hurt me, sending me too tears that it can no longer be considered a task. It's too easy to make me cry, to make me wish my life would just end.

I pick up the sword, the weapon familiar in my hands. How many times have I picked it up? Countless. Too many times have I tried to pierce my body with this weapon but too many times have I failed and ended up in tears. Besides that, there was always someone to stop me from killing myself because no one ever cared about hurting me. I was an easy target.

I picked up the sword and let it drop to the floor as I stood up. I was determined to not let it bother me, to write my feelings down and burn the paper in a fiery hell, watching the torture I had undergone burn and turn into ashes.

A bitter smile found its way to my face as I heard the metal clang simultaneously as thunder shook outside. Maybe, one day, they'll realize I'm a human being too with feelings that are broken easily. At the moment, it's just me and a sword in the room. I won't end my life just yet, they could realize that they hurt me. The sword will always be there but the chance to realize their mistakes comes and goes.