Isolated

When she was cowered in the corner, when she heard those voices, when she felt the overwhelming urge to rot away, that is when the monster was there with her. The monster hides in the darkness, it tells her all the things she never wanted to hear. She tries to ignore it, to go on, but the marks it leaves fester inside her. She tries to guess where the monster came from, maybe it was when her peers said those things it appeared, maybe it was something she did in front of them that let it out, maybe it was always there and she never really realized. Her mad thoughts only deepen the scars. She never wanted it to be here. She remembered when everything was normal and she was still pretending she was happy. But sometimes, you can only hide the truth for so long. She bleeds out every feeling of anguish, hoping it’ll run out, but the heart of paranoia keeps pumping. She makes the most drastic plans to rid the monster from her, and it only strengthens the monster. She thinks it’s only making things worse, that she needs decisive action now or else it’ll be too late.

But did she ever ask her peers? She decides that, if she needs a definitive answer, she wants the other’s opinions on her monster. Some may think she’s somewhat right about the monster, that its existence is grounded in some semblance of reason. But many do tell her that it’s a deceiver. The monster tries to keep up its falsehoods, to try to deepen the anguish. But in the end, the monster isn’t permanent, so long as she persists in the hope for a better future.

There is always hope for a better future. The world can only get so bad before the only way left is up.