Creating the Monster Part One

A Story by W. V. H.

A loss of one's self

Walking out in plain sight, a fake smile for the world to see. Pretending to be the doting father and loving husband. Telling the world that everything is fine. Tell them how you beat me. Tell them how you rape me. Tell them how you only enjoy watching people burn around you. I stood up and it cost me everything, now you’ll know as you watch your world burn around you for a change. A monster, a harlot, an unimaginable creature of worthless weight. These are the names I’m now called because I stood up and yet I find strange comfort in them a resonating power surges through my soul. A fire I never knew burned inside me. I’m coming to the finale all dressed up and ready to dance. I will stand up. I will fight. And my humanity will be lost because you made me this. This is what you wanted all along. The dark friend in us all. Now they’re ready to play and I’m ready to indulge. The pain is what drives me the more you press the stronger I get. Your hate feeds me your misguided attempts at retribution only consolidate my rage into a focused pursuit of gleeful revenge. They tell us not to hate, but that’s wrong the world turns on it daily. Love and Hate are just words created in order to process the idea. Neither is right or wrong. When the Sun goes down, I will be the shadow in the twilight stalking your every move like a predator over prey. Make no mistake this is for blood. It’s all over except for the silence. Sweet, sweet coma inducing silence. Welcome to your creation.