From whence I came from a life of abuse. It permeated like a force of muse gandering at the thought of a perfidious life. It too gave me thoughts of the world, was it a fallacy world of coincidence that led me to a demised sight? I had to improvise my life to form a basis of moral injunction to rebel against the impunity injurious people that innately instilled trepidation in me. Fear was no lie in this scenario, thy love was nowhere and yet they said it while walloping us... ultimately, adequate action was taken to seek a better me, so that I may never turn into a monster... People tell you to accept it, it's just not that easy. You end up accepting the secrets of the monster. For me, I'll never get over it. Pieces of me are still lost and they're prying their way out, but I'm not willing to let them out. I'm not even willing to say the word of what he did to us. Instead, I talk about the abuse, the sexual abuse and even who they killed. It wasn't just one person that died while I stood there in terror, I watched a girl just die... Her soul ripped from her eyes, it was like her whole world fell apart in that instance, she was crying and she never let her gaze leave mine. I watched as the screams delved into silence. And I remember his smile as he did it, knowing that her soul would leave in that moment. He knew that our fear would just keep us from ever telling our loved ones, that fear buries into your heart and with each night you sob and wail until you get a thought. The thought becomes an emotion and the smile that he had became a demon. Every night after that happened, I fell apart in fear and shame, crying at how I sat there in fear watching as those eyes darkened. I spent my life trying to forget those moments... Alcohol did nothing, it just made me bawl my eyes out. I promised her though that I'd never do drugs, that I'd never lose the me she loved and that I would be myself. I feel like I let her down, I couldn't be myself for years and in the moment I lost my entirety, my soul. That monster becomes your reality, it becomes who you are and you're passed secrets from a monster. Knowing that, with your words and actions, they have true consequences. That monster is always with me and the girl I saw that day I always see, and the dark figure that peers into my room desiring to see my fear. The fear of an everlasting thought of being beaten to death. Raped as you scream in agony and you see a smile that is forever your demon.

© Process-12