Friday's Diary

**Dear Bloody Mirror**

I have noticed that even great beings such as myself have their moments of depravity, of failure. We are after all the "Promises of Humanity", so when one interacts with humanity long and consistently enough, they're bound to pick up on their little ticks.

And I suppose that consuming my fellow "lost" Promises with foul tastes also contribute to me losing my cool from time to time.

Who knew killing Depression you'd have to deal with the bitch even longer?

**TRIGGER WARNING**

After the Awakening

Sometimes, I look into the mirror and the being looking back is a fucking monster, a liar, a fake; nothing but a stain on the presence of those around me.

This world wasn't made for a monster like me. It was built around the bright and pristine. The pure and innocent.

All I did was taint the clean canvas with the blood on my hands and darkness in my heart.

My knuckles scream and cry red at my actions, but my head does nothing to morn what I've done. The voices wailing inside are driving now, and I can do nothing but  listen.

Liar. Fucked up. Mistake. Worthless.

UNWANTED.

"STOP!!" I scream over them all, drowning them from continuing, my voice turning hoarse. But that doesn't stop me, I keep going until I'm coughing up blood too.

Yeah, maybe they're right. This is a path I keep fighting myself on, maybe it's where a stain like me belongs. In the shadows of others, taking on their darkness and sins.

The shattered reflection of a broken being stares aimlessly back in my eyes, their soul gone and mind lost. Was this really once a person of great strength? Is this what happens when you lose everything that makes living worth while? What is the purpose of immortality and eternity if there is no drive to fight for, if the spirit is dead before the body? 

"Mirrors reflect the soul and body". If that's true then there is barely anything left to see of myself. A hollow shell of flesh that doesn't hold life within it. Dying seems too easy, but slowly withering away... I guess that could be Hell for one that sees no Heaven. True death is for those that deserve it, that tried living and hadn't given up.

As for the shards that lay on the floor, sharp blades that further reflect my depravity, the bloody edges slicing my skin and letting the pain fuel my clouded mind, quieting the screams on the inside.

Can it end yet? Can I be free from my chains?

Can I go home at long last?

*~*~*

I am sorry to those who suffer, for that pain is meant for no living being, for it cuts deep and doesn't let go easily. Not one experience is the same, but pain is still pain. May you all find healing, that which preserves life and keeps Basal's corrupted claws off of your souls. Don't let him win while he sits in his prison. I have met the Grim Reaper and he wishes you're soul is in one piece when it's you're time to be guided, not before and not in shards.

May the Promises bless you and keep your souls safe from the vile.

~Friday O'Lucky