The Ability To Feel

My Hell's Creator

It's October 21st.

I feel like I'm having another nightmare. I'm not.

Instead, this nightmare is real.

I have received a visit from the creator of the hell I am living in.

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There she stands.

The creator of my hell.

The Devil of my life.

She stands there with blood red eyes staring right into my soul.

Fear surrounds my whole body. I am frozen and cannot move.

She notices.

She can feel it, she can smell it. She feeds off of my fear.

She gives a mischievous smirk.

The fear now starts to change. The fear is now taken over by anger. I approach her.

Her words are then spoken, but not out loud.

Her words are only heard in my head.

"My dear child, what is it that you urge to request?" She asks with a devious smile. Her voice is like the sound of death.

I speak.

"I want to leave this hell you have trapped me in. I want you to free me. I don't think I am able to live like this."

"This is your request?" She laughs, her laugh the sound of a dying raven.

"I am not requesting. I am demanding. You can not keep me like this. I must be free. I need to live the rest of my life in peace. But I can't if you're here to keep me trapped suffering with pain."
I speak calmly yet my words are full of fire.

"Even if I do free you and leave you, you will still remain in this torturous hell. There is no escaping. Freedom does not exist here in this world. You will always be suffering with pain."

Her words are faint. Her voice is like a whisper yet still spoken with a tone like death.

A murderous aura now surrounds her. Her eyes speak to me with death. Her smile is the smile of torture.

My chest tightens. I can't breathe. The air in my lungs have escaped and began to fog my eyes. I can feel my heart grow dark and cold. My skin turn pale. My eyes turn into emptiness.

I fall.

Dark is now all that I see.

Demons now only conquer my mind.