For most people, it is simple to choose between the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other. Given my karma, I’m forced a lacking of moral sense. This is where I tell the naked truth.

I exist without a soul.

Living with the curse of (almost) never escaping the devil is something I was forced to come to terms with. It takes form as my literal shadow, only vanishing in absolute darkness. A castigation resulting in endless days isolated in my dark room. I think of it as my panic room. My only haven where the world is safe from me.

Existing with my own antagonist whispering in my ear has me constrained.

Fighting the constant urge to destroy all of the goodness in my life.

Not only does my shadow cause the tendency to self-destruct, it also takes form of animosity and irritation and of course, endless depression. Questioning why I deserved this is pointless. I had it coming.

In my early 20s, I hurt people. I thrived to create drama from those around me. My greatest pleasure was creating conversation into argument; creating fights with those who loved me felt like bliss.

I have ruined every relationship in my life. Every friend I’ve had now loathes me for my many acts of betrayal. I have estranged myself from my parents in the hope to allow them to live happy lives without my presence. I of course caused their divorce, yet alienating myself was my first attempt to become a better person.

It would be a lie if I said I didn’t try to help myself. When the realization of how destructive my behavior was becoming, guilt became a feeling heavier than a mountain. Righting my wrongs became my only purpose until I received my curse.

The god of nightmares spoke to me in a dream. I was in my favorite shop of refurbished antiques, looking at a mirror with beautiful framing of sworls of gold. Taking pleasure in materialism as usual, I knew I couldn’t leave without it. As I took a step toward the glass, the world around me turned into infinite darkness with my reflection just visible. My hand reached out to touch the mirror but to my shock, my reflection did not move its arm and instead smiled with unnerving intent.

“The time has come,” my apparition spoke.

My heart began racing, adrenaline increasing so fast I felt faint.

“I have been watching as you have been living a life of selfishness. The intensity of your egoistic lifestyle makes you irresistible. Your failed becoming has caused me some hesitance, however, I am not keen to patience. Broken souls like yours are the most valuable. I understand it’s quite a paradox.”

I opened my mouth yet my words catch in my throat. My usual cynicism ceased.

“Today, your well-deserved karma is being delivered. For too long, I have been yearning for a soul like yours. Your lack of remorse is greater than your attempts to become a person you know you will never be. There is no escaping me until the moment your insignificant life ends.”

I turned and began to run but the darkness weighed me down as if I was running through water. I know that I am dreaming but I could not seem to wake myself.

“Running is pointless” the voice reached the endless void “From this day on, you will live your life without the choice to do good. I will take the form of your shadow and feed on your soul as I strip your autonomy. You have no other option but to submit.”

I awoke to the blinding sunlight peaking through my bedroom window, the intensity making my head throb like nothing I’ve experienced before. Sitting up in my bed, my hands shaking as I opened my curtains. I reach for my bottle of anti-anxiety medication as I hear a faint voice belonging to my shadow that was cast onto my headboard.

“This is only the beginning.”

My hands shake as I open the bottle. I must be delusional.

“Take the remaining pills,” it demands.

A weeks left of my prescription pours into the palm of my hand. I have fought against abusing Xanax for a year now - one of my many attempts to become a better person.

With the handful of Xanax, I swallow my pride.