I must have wrote this about 11 years ago when I was about 15. I stumbled across it in an old folder that seams to have survived backup after backup over the years.
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Many days have passed since I left my home, or perhaps I should say my prison. Since then I have tried to forget the terrors I have seen and ignore the horrific nightmare that have plagued my every waking moment. Something dark resides inside me now. I can feel it, flowing through my veins and behind my eyes. It seems to watch me in some unearthly way. It guides me and, in my “weaker” moments, it tries to control me. I know that if I don’t suppress this darkness it would consume what little remains of my soul. I never sleep for I fear to close my eyes, because when I do I see flashes of light, images of what I once was and hope to never be again, images that terrorize me. I travel by night, waiting for daytimes that never come, a sun that never rises, or a sky; a sky that I haven’t seen through the clouds for what seems like an eternity past. Something continues to drive me forward, perhaps what is left of my humanity. But I cannot be sure. That word “Humanity” is just that to me, a word. If any of it were still within me I would never know it. I have forgotten what it was like to ever just be a man. I long for death, but taking my own life would be like the acts of a coward who runs from his fears instead of facing them, and many would agree, including myself, that death is not a sufficient punishment for the crimes I’ve committed. There is something else, something that seems to break through that dark place, assuring me that with all the pain I have inflicted, all the suffering I have caused and all the torture I have born witness to, hell will be my heaven.
- A Devils Monologue
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This is completely unedited from what I wrote all those years ago, and it brought back a flood of memories of being a teenager.
What was the first thing you ever wrote?
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Many days have passed since I left my home, or perhaps I should say my prison. Since then I have tried to forget the terrors I have seen and ignore the horrific nightmare that have plagued my every waking moment. Something dark resides inside me now. I can feel it, flowing through my veins and behind my eyes. It seems to watch me in some unearthly way. It guides me and, in my “weaker” moments, it tries to control me. I know that if I don’t suppress this darkness it would consume what little remains of my soul. I never sleep for I fear to close my eyes, because when I do I see flashes of light, images of what I once was and hope to never be again, images that terrorize me. I travel by night, waiting for daytimes that never come, a sun that never rises, or a sky; a sky that I haven’t seen through the clouds for what seems like an eternity past. Something continues to drive me forward, perhaps what is left of my humanity. But I cannot be sure. That word “Humanity” is just that to me, a word. If any of it were still within me I would never know it. I have forgotten what it was like to ever just be a man. I long for death, but taking my own life would be like the acts of a coward who runs from his fears instead of facing them, and many would agree, including myself, that death is not a sufficient punishment for the crimes I’ve committed. There is something else, something that seems to break through that dark place, assuring me that with all the pain I have inflicted, all the suffering I have caused and all the torture I have born witness to, hell will be my heaven.
- A Devils Monologue
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This is completely unedited from what I wrote all those years ago, and it brought back a flood of memories of being a teenager.
What was the first thing you ever wrote?
