It had been a normal day, and that terrified her more than anything. She woke up and silence echoed throughout the house. The anxiety just waiting at the end of her bed. She turned to her side, terrified it was going to be there, but it wasn’t. She went through her whole day without a sound, without any interruption. “What is this?” She thought as she made dinner that night. “Is this some sick joke? Or is it actually gone...” she pushed the thought away as if it would bring her nightmare back to the present.

Then all of a sudden, the doorbell rang. Every muscle in her body tensed, making her heart beat known to the stranger on the other side of the door. She felt it, it was there waiting for her to let it in but why would she? Why would she willingly let the monster inside? Is it comforting to feel “normal” even if that normal is followed by torment and pain? They say people who are abused, over time become attached to their abuser. What a sick thought. Was she attached to her abuser? Is it an abuser? Is it really called abuse if it’s you who does the abusing? If it’s you who constantly lets the darkness take over to expand inside with its thick talons and thirst for your suffering and downfall?

She slide carefully on her fuzzy socks to the door, to find a mirror reflection on each side of the door. Both reflections of the person she once was, a scared little girl.

“Are you going to let him in?” The innocent girl tilted her head and pouted out her lips.

“Uh... no! Leave me alone!” She covered her ears and ran upstairs to her room.

The effort of running felt like a marathon to her. The hallway stretched to about a thousand yards and their she collapsed on the floor. Her tears ran down her pick face and on to the wooden floor. Her body curled on the floor as a reaction to protect her. To protect her from the monster that was following her. How can anyone protect you though from yourself?

She woke up laying on the floor closest to the wall. Her face was dry from all the tears that spilled from her fear. She got up carefully to examine her surroundings. “Did I just have another episode?” She pushed her hair to the side and walked slowly to the kitchen. Again, silence haunted the house, allowing every piece of floating dust known to her.

Cassie couldn’t control what was happening, or could she? Was she allowing this beast to conquer her every thought? She didn’t want to believe it was her depression making her see things. She didn’t want to believe what happened to her as a child was still trying to make itself apart of her now, as an adult. She just wanted to feel normal all the time. It terrified her how normal this day started, why does she have to live that way? She pulled her hair in a tie and opened the front door. The leaves flew from one yard to another when she saw it... the monster was black, with no face. It crept its way up her drive way and she felt the blood in her body run with fear. She thought about running, about hiding again and never coming out to see the sun again, but she didn’t. She stood her ground, and the monster felt it. It came closer and closer and seeing it did not phase her one bit, his size began to falter. The more it tried to fight it, the taller she stood.

“I no longer belong to you,” her eyes were filled with fire, a fire that should not be tested.

Yet the monster tested and got burned. She shut the door and it disappeared. Depression is a lasting condition and if not careful, the monster can manifest within our subconscious and devour us every chance it can. Cassie grew tired of the fear, she decided that day that she was not that little girl anymore. She wasn’t vulnerable but instead she was the dragon that devoured the beast. No longer will her fears or doubts or pass regrets every trap her again, for she freed herself from her own torment. Some may say that’s the worse form, I mean who can do more damage then yourself?