~1~
The devil is real and he's not some little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite -American Horror Story
I sighed and shut my eyes for a bit thinking about how we live in a world of hate. Most of the hate goes towards me. Everyone thinks I have been possessed by the devil or something because ever since I was nine something happened. I honestly don't remember anything that happened on that day but ever since then, everyone tries their best to stay away from me, even my own parents. You'd think by now, my parents would have put me for adoption. But from listening in on their conversation, they think I'll come back for revenge.
I don't see what's so wrong with whatever happened. Why is the devil so frightened? The thought of these kinds of things intrigue me, and if the devil were ever real I would like to meet him, it's my dream. Does thinking about this kind of things make me a bad person? I think not. And if it did, would I got to hell?
My room is covered in so many drawings of what I think he might look like. There are also some human like creatures because you never know.
Most of these ideas come from my dreams. I see things, and I draw. But it's also fun to imagine and explore.
I take a peek out of my window to see one of my neighbour walking his dog. He peers up and sees me staring down at him. Taking immediate action, he quickly dashes forward, trying not to pay attention to me. If they say that I've been possessed by the devil himself, then I must be gorgeous. Okay, that sounded like I was full of myself but I find him very beautiful no matter what shape or form because everyone deserved to be loved.
"Hey Milo, get some sleep, you have school tomorrow." Mother stands at the doorway, already in her night dress. She plasters a fake smile on her face like she actually cares and each and every time, I get fooled and think that they actually do care for me. They put up this act so when they think that when I have gone completely crazy, that I won't hurt them. Even after all this, I still manage to love them because we learn to give love, even if it's not returned.
I nodded and opened my arms wide out. She hesitated for a bit but then stepped forward. I don't know if it was the fear of the drawings on my wall or me but she managed to step inside. And for the first time in a while, she grasped me into a tight hug. I was a bit shocked at first but then sooned relaxed. My hair was feeling a little wet and I noticed that she had been crying. I brought my hands up to her back and rubbed it softly trying to calm her down. Her hands clutched my hair and she let out shaky breaths, "What happened to my Milo?"
We pulled back for me to see her stained cheeks. "Mom, tell me what happened on that night? What did I do so wrong to make everybody hate me?" That caused her to cry even more. "It's alll my fault!" She gasped and fell on her knees.
"Shh, it's not your fault." I patted her back, getting her to stop. She shook her head furiously. "Yes it is! If it weren't for my foolish mistakes, this would have never happened!"
I stared at her confused for a moment, "Mom," I started. Her head lift up slowly that she was looking at me. "Tell me everthing that happened."
She took a deep breath, "Well..."
