You know that little voice in the back of your head, that’s not your conscious, that’s your personal little demon. Ever since we were small, it’s been drilled into our heads what is right and what is wrong; feeding that conscious. But what of the little demon? Oh it’s in there alright, growing silently, plotting, and waiting for you to SNAP.
Most people don’t even want to deal with the little demon, after all it did scare us in our childhood as monsters under our beds and haunted us in our sleep. So we try to lock it up; it still whispers though, just barely audible of how worthless you are. As for the rest of us, we listen to the demons a little too closely.
Still it grows until it consumes you, hungers for your very being, to tear you, consume you, and throw whatever’s left away. It’ll look for its next victim, wearing your skin. For you will be nothing but a withered husk, a mere puppet, a host to the little demon.
It starts living your life. It hates you, hates everything you are, hates everyone you know, and hates everything you do. It claws at the walls of your being. It desires your destruction, attacking where it hurts most. It wants everything you have but that isn’t enough, it’s never enough. It whispers of temptation for its closer to you than you think. It’ll always come after you, long after you’re dead and gone.
The little demon laughs at your doubt, your weakness, and your hesitation; thinking itself better than a weak human. It’ll strike you from the inside, where you are most vulnerable. It pokes at your psyche, looking to break you.
When you grow up all alone, with people there one moment and gone the next, you tend to think a lot; and when you think a lot the demon likes to slip in a suggestion or two. Suggestions of jealousy, anger, self-loathing, resent and with each dark thought, the demon grows. Grows until it finally consumes you. You think you can control it, but it’ll just slip through your fingers; showing sides you never wish others to see.
Don’t believe me? Look at yourself in the mirror. I’m sure you’ve wished you could change something of yourself, more honest, too much of a coward, wished you were somebody else. You may wish this was a dream but let me a sure you, it’s all too real.
The demon has already sunken its claws into your being. Your teetering on the edge of the demon’s waiting jaws and no one will hear you scream. One false move…