Sometimes monsters don’t live underneath the bed. They don’t live underneath the stairs, or in the closet. Sometimes, they live inside of us. They grow inside your heart and fester, much like a virus, and imbed themselves into your brain until you are the monster, and you’ve lost your true self.

At that point, are you better off alive or dead?

It didn’t matter. Right now it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing ever mattered. Not when there was a monster inside of you.

Today, I was going to get it out. I didn’t want it anymore. I was tired of being numb and hateful. I was tired of hurting people. I was tired- so tired.

The blade of the razor hurt like hell, but I kept going. I didn’t want whatever it was inside of me anymore. I hated how cold it had made me. I hated how I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Ten years ago I was happy- but now, now I didn’t know what I was. If I was real or if I was fake. I didn’t know if I was worthy of love or I deserved everything that came my way.

One slash for my brothers. One slash for my friends. One slash for my boyfriend. One slash for me.

One, two, three, four-

My blood is dripping on the floor.

I don’t care. I don’t care anymore.

Tears fill my vision. It hurts- it hurts a lot. But that means it’s working. That means the monster is escaping me. That means I am almost free. That means I’m starting to feel- the numbness is slowly ebbing away from me.

Five, six, seven, eight-

I can no longer see straight.

Am I even still cutting anymore? I just feel dizzy. But I’m feeling. Oh my god, I am FEELING.

Yet my arms, the floor, they are painted in my blood. But it’s mine. It’s not the monster’s

I feel so light. I think my head is on the floor now. Is that sunshine? Have I done it? Is the monster gone? Have I finally made it to Heaven?

Am I finally free?

I’m not in pain anymore. I’m not in pain anymore.

I’m not…in pain anymore. I’m not…in pain…anymore. I’m…not…in pain…anymore. I’m…not…in…pain……