They don’t ever go away.

The demons.

The monsters.

Whether I close my eyes or open them.

No matter how far I hide under the covers.

They.

Won’t.

Leave.

They just sit there…

Laughing, screaming.

Their twisted smiles of jagged teeth.

Their long, thin fingers with sharp daggers on the tips of them.

Their large eyes poking out and staring at me.

The blood dripping down from their teeth.

My terror is what they feed off of.

The fear is what keeps them coming.

I try.

I really do.

To not be afraid of them.

But I can’t.

It’s their purpose.

It’s the whole reason I am the person they torment.

Their names are depression.

Their names are anxiety.

Their names are fear.

Their names are tears.

Their names are Satan.

The devil himself.

I can feel his presence.

I can feel the burn.

I can feel the hate.

I can feel the stabs.

I can taste the blood.

I hear the bones cracking.

No one understands what I mean when I see things at night.

When I see them, I know they are the only ones who understand.

The demons get me.

The demons hate me.

But everyone hates me.

That’s why I hate myself.

And I hide myself.

Because no one should have to go through what I go through.

But no one should judge me for what they don’t understand.

Yet they do.

They do so much.

The demons aren’t just demons.

They are basically scarier looking humans.

Should I be afraid of these so called nightmares?

I don’t know.

But all I know is that yes, I am terrified.

(Oh btw Merry Christmas!!)