I want to feel …

How did I turn out to be like that? Like this … I don’t know me anymore, I’m looking at the mirror and I see my demon staring back at me.

I lost my feelings, so I began to borrow some from others. I became addicted, I even started to appreciate fear experiences. I have literally felt everything and there is nothing much left to steal.

I tried to escape but now I have to live with it. I ripped people’s feelings out and now they have nothing inside, just like me. They became monsters too but I haven’t left them with much to feed on. Now what? I need to feel human again, even if that means that I have to do inhuman things.

I didn’t choose to be me but I can stop being me, would you let me see life through your eyes? To feel what you felt … Anger, fear, sorrow, love and all? Leave me but don’t leave me in hunger! If you were me, what would you choose? Starvation or salivation?

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Yes, it is me.

I got used to the darkness and I have made friends with my demons. I accepted the monsters who are inside of me instead of fighting them. Yes, I feel good about giving up. The light now hurts my eyes and I am too busy curing my headaches to dull the pain. Yet, I want to feel something, even if it is anger and loathing …

I’m dead rotting down here with false expectations and hope that is forever lost. I have lost the will to live and to be better. My fears blossom inside of me like flowers and I think they are beautiful. My kind sadness became my inspiration, I’m lucky that he visits me from time to time. I begun to appreciate my nightmares, for they give me better stories. My days though … They are all the same; pale, old, dusty and people are the wind.

My mind is filled with traps, dungeons and old castles with secret rooms and cold prisons. My thoughts are easily disturbed like the surface of the water, therefore I appreciate the screaming silence. I don’t want to be saved for there is nothing to be saved. I am the ruins; it is all black, burnt down, broken and abandoned. When you look in my eyes, you’ll see nothing for there is nothing inside, nothing good.

I’d rather stick needles in my heart than to feel neglect or attention. Poison runs in my veins instead of blood and apple chunks are cutting through my throat, I shall not speak but I shall release it from its leash to let it feed and grow from time to time. Maybe I have lost my self for good but I am too numb to care. Let it be, what is the worst thing that can happen?

Bedtime story

If only he hadn’t dropped the note … John Sevefaro; a respected man and a brain cancer charity founder is not what he seems. John , who is married to Katy Witherspoon, is the owner of the new science laboratory in town. They had three children together; Mary, Joseph and Noah in close ages from seven to ten. Ten and a half as Noah always said proudly. Katy is an art teacher in her children’s primary school and is loved by her other ninety three children.

Everyday she dives into waves of admiration by the parents and love from her students. They were both quite a couple; wonder makers. She would create Art pieces from nothing and he creates green paper to feed the eyes of his wife.

One day as the mother and her three little slaves were getting up to go to school, Katy felt sick and passed the duty to drop off the children to the husband. He was complaining at the door about being late since the ways are too different and the nice nosy neighbour has heard him so she offered to take them to school on her way to work.

They singed in the car together and she offered them candy and sugar treats, they were happy and that cheered her up after the divorce of hers. Seven hours had passed, so Katy called on the husband to ask him about the kids, were they polite? Does she need to punish them with face slaps? Her curiosity was boiling till he picked up the phone to tell her about the lucky day he had.

She went to the neighbour’s house to see if she brought them back but the old lady is gone and instead there was a paper on the door. Katy took the paper; it was a printed letter – ” I took your three children to an old friend of mine, they look beautiful in red; those angels. We told them that they have been chosen to sacrifice themselves to god. If only you saw the innocent looks on their faces! They were so happy as we tied them up from their legs. It was painless I assure you, we drugged them first then we murdered them. I threw the bones to stray dogs, made a wig out of your daughter’s beautiful shiny hair and we kept the tender meat in plastic boxes for us to cook and eat later. Love, Sandra.”

Katy choked and shook in fear then lost her ability to speak as she waited in shock helplessly for her husband who was really late. He came in finally with a smile of satisfaction on his face, he hanged his jacket and a little note fell out. She couldn’t speak … What would she say? She quietly picked up the note to read it and it had red stains and a meat cooking recipe. This morning she knew too little and this evening little did she know.