Writing Prompts and Random Musings

Prompt #8

The memories are so intertwined with my existence that it becomes impossible to separate - to differentiate between them. Absorbed in this circle of self-fulfilling prophecy I blink, letting the images fall from my mind, back into my subconscious. This life is intense - too intense for comfort as I shove my hands deeper into my pockets mentally blocking the growing discomfort. 

I want to escape - to run away from it all, but I can't. The hauntings still come - still persist through everything. They have become a part of my psyche now - dismantling and repairing me until I was forced to accept it - accept who I really am - a freak. No, not a freak I tell myself, just unusual - abnormal. Who is normal anyway? Everyone has their demons, mine are just real, but no one believes me, so society just disregards me as some mentally unstable loon.

I look around quickly as I continue to make my way home, picking up the pace. I don't like the night - it is when they are the most active and at their worst.