Inner Demons

© Copyright Sweetdreamer747 2013, All Rights Reserved

~Inner Demons- A Short Story~

It draws me in.

It taunts me.

The blade is sharp and warning.

It's human nature for people to have means of dealing with their troubles, but what about those that have been through too much? To the point where it is simply too overwhelming to handle.

What then?

There is not a day or hour that goes by that I don't think about the pain and torture I have gone through.

The pressure, the fights, the yelling, hunger...blood.

Average teenagers don't go through this so why?

Why me?

I ask myself this every single damn day.

Why am I so alone?

How come no one understands?

Oh right...I never gave them the chance.

I was tormented daily no matter where I was...dying inside. Yet no on knew. My facade had become so natural that I started to believe I was two different people.

On the outside I was carefree and vibrant...a social butterfly.

On the inside I was drowning in myself: In my fears and my regrets. Closed off to the outside worlds which I put walls up to avoid.

A dark void which was a labyrinth to escape.

They have tried... So many have tried to help but they couldn't do anything.

All they could do was take me away from it all...but only physically.

Mentally I would go back.

The memories would flood in like a title wave in my head as all other thoughts would become a blur.

All I could think of was to just end it in the easiest way possible. Yes it sounds stupid but I wanted an easy way out.

It was all just overwhelming to me.

Unworthy.

Useless.

Irresponsible.

Ignorant.

Ugly.

Stupid.

Fat.

A waste of a human being.

Words hurt. Some words hold so much meaning when said to either help or offend someone.

The looks...glares...whispers.

After 3 they didn't know what I went through. They were naive and arrogant.

And I truly pity them.

Yet I believed them. Every single thing said to me reiterated in my head like an infectious disease that continued to spread throughout my entire being.

Soon, food became less and less appealing.

No one noticed...

I was never watched closely anyway. The only ones that ever cared died long ago.

The ones that stayed...could care less about me and more of themselves and their precious alcohol.

Not conscious long enough to see themselves in the morning.