What appalled me the most was that a person could do this to himself; destroy and strike one’s own body until nothing was left but a deathly figure of bleeding skin and bones. I silently prayed to God for… I don’t know what exactly. To take all the pain and gore away? For no one to harm their own body? Then, I remembered something my father had told me. He said that all of our bodies were temples of the Holy Spirit, and they had to be respected, nourished, and taken care of. But apparently not everyone followed that law. Alas, look at the sight that lay before me! I had a feeling that Casimir could sense my presence in the room. He always could. He seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness, and his eyes looked as if they couldn’t stay open for much longer. Casimir looked sleepy, but I knew it was so much more than that. At the same time, he was groggy, as if he were starting to awaken from a deep sleep. Thinking about it, but unsure. Trying to, but unable. Either way, I knew he was not well rested.