Suffering. Hidden like a stain on a shirt, a stain you can’t seem to wash out, so one day you’re hiding it in the closet, and another day you cove... it up with a shiny new jacket. But no matter what you do, it’s always there. Always has been. Always will be.I was about ten years old, when I really noticed it for the first time. I just had joined the athletics club of our school. Sarah was there. For every training. For every competition. Always cheering me on, always being supportive. Like she. I work as a network administrator in atechnical support help desk and usually come home brain dead after eighthours of dealing with frustrating customers.I stopped by the mailboxes out front and grabbed a stack of the usualjunk mail."Don't you hate that?" a voice behind me asked. I turned to seeHeather, our neighbor from two doors down smiling at me as she picked upher mail, "Junk mail drives me crazy." What're you gonna do though right?" I replied. Heather was a cute, 24year-old brunette,. More

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