"Look at yourself," she says,
"Look at the disaster you are. "
And she's not wrong. There are tears threatening to fall and an inescapable sadness crawls just beneath my skin. She's absolutely right.
And who is this 'she'?
Well, her name is Monophobia. She's always there to lend a 'helping hand' in stopping my silly little fantasies about what I wish to be.
I absolutely loathe her. She smells of decay and rotted fabric, and her thin hands are constantly covering her mouth in a sad attempt at a coquettish gesture. It's all a façade, really.
What she really wants is for me to suffer. She was beautiful to me, once, back when I was naive and stupid. She's stuck here now, and she's enjoying every second that I fall deeper into her trap.
And God, how I wish she would leave.
. . .
Monophobia (noun)-
the fear of being alone
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Peradventure
Teen FictionA warning: this book contains sensitive material and just general teenage angst. Please approach with caution, unless you're looking for one hell of a collection of stories.
