Samloxofnewyrs

I started hearing the voices about the same time I started seeing the color red. Red splattering all over the colorless walls, that nobody else could see. Shortly after the gore became more vibrant, the Shadow People showed up. They were shapeless figures, varying in depth and size. Some had teeth, others had ghastly long fingernails that would scratch against my headboard and the squishiest parts of my brain at night. They watch from afar, but nonetheless judge like Gods. They have eyes like hawks, though far too too many to count. I’ve come to find the ones who drip the deepest shades of ruby are the most fragile, aggressive ones. They don’t take kindly to being stared at for too long, which is a bit ironic considering the fact they hide themselves to the naked eye to clothe their grotesque, hideous appearances. They are not kind, docile creatures. Do not approach them. The stockier, darker ones that have tentacles reaching out from underneath the black pits of their mouths, and wrapping around their necks and torso are the calmer ones. They are very shy, timid beings, and hate having their photos taken. Flash startles them as they’re blind, ensuing a meltdown equivalent to a toddler. They are very dramatic, tiring beasts of the night. Do not approach them. Let them come to you. They can serve as a spirit guide or serve as your worst nightmare. It all depends on the respect and privacy you’ve given them. Then there’s the ones we don’t talk about. The ones who can’t see, the ones we can’t feel. Nobody has ever lived to tell of their build, so I’m not entirely sure what I’m dealing with. It lives in the back of my mind like a constant itch, and I see the silhouette of it everywhere I go. I have the urge to take a razorblade and cut it out, or jump from 20 stories high to make their voices stop. Their notes ring out like blood seeping through a paper towel, and I don’t know how much longer I can go hearing their ear-piercing screams at all times. Nobody is too sure what their purpose is, but I’m almost positive they drive you to insanity. And when your sanity meter has completely vanished, suicide seems like the only valid option. They are intimidating, cold, and the most evil and vile bloodthirsty monsters this world reeks of. Do not approach them, I assure you- you will regret it. It’s hard to get the shadows that live amongst your walls to like you. They’re constantly looking for things they can change, or things they’d rather rip straight out of your warm, fleshy body. They don’t eat, they don’t sleep, but they’re really good at watching you. They see everything you do. They hide in the darkest corners of your room, and if you open your eyes slow enough, you might be able to catch a glimpse of one. I wouldn’t recommend this, due to the fact you don’t know who, not what, is in that corner. They crouch and limp and contort their limbs to make themselves appealing to your naive, broken eyes. They are not what they seem. They’re all horrible creatures at the end of the day, some far worse off than others. It’s not worth it. Do not approach them, they will be the end of everything positive and good in your life. They will reign down absolute chaos and madness, rendering everyone at fault and unsafe.

When I die, bury me in the flower garden by the shed. Where the weeds never grow, and the vultures never lurk. Where the roots run deep but the flesh runs deeper. I don’t want to be reincarnated. If I hate this world as it was, why would I want to come back in another form? There is nothing left for me here. I am just awaiting my demise, as I feel my skin grow weaker and weaker, holding onto until it can no more. Snapping clean off, leaving exposed bones and parts of myself I never wanted to admit I had. Holding onto my entrails, looking into your soft brown eyes begging for the sweet release and crimson taste of death. You may not be ready for me to go, but I was ready the second I took my first breath. Denying the inevitable, and pretending as if I have a purpose. As if I have a meaning.