In the darkness of his own mind, Sabo suffers.

He 's never been a fan of such complete blindness, but everything was made worse by the consistent plunge of despair that consumes his chest, like a growing lump that burns, burns, and

keeps burning

.

He could throw up, but he 's not nauseated enough for it.

He could scream, but he 's out of strength.

He could struggle and writhe, but he was paralyzed, forced to bear with the agony eating him alive, crawling across his body like mounds of carnivorous mites unable to be settled until he was dead.

Could he even die?

He can 't even think straight. He can only bear with the pain, try to bear with the pain, fail to bear with the pain-- and rinse and repeat without a choice.

Eventually, he realizes that this is the fruit he 's eaten.