Spawn of Satan

Demon's Gates

Five. Five long years I've been cascaded into these walls of hell. Isolated from the the pleasure I've addicted. Drugged my very soul by pills of the unlawful, inhuman feeling of calmness. Thrown into a mental asylum to be "cured".

The only cure for a person known as the spawn of satan is to either be put to death or to make death. Sadly I was chosen for neither. I was thrown into the demon's gates. Tormenting my soul by forcing upon me sanity.

I am indeed sane, why force equality of sanity into each person. But no longer will I be left into this hell hole. No longer will I shout to the devil himself to stop allowing me conjure up the insane thought that my past was erroneous.

How dare the unfair trial of ignorant people whose philosophy is all screwed up do to human equality and belief of a utopian society put me into the asylum many sane people call shelter. Although if any choice we would not conceal our thoughts that are befolded due to the drugs that are diffused into our system.

I've been here before though. I know this feeling and know how to rid itself from my soul it is trying to peirce. The soul humanity created along with my thoughts conjured by my past pain. The deepness of not only the dark I've constructed my soul around but of the mind I've made almost to the extinct of almost impossibility to conceal thoughts of light and shallow.

Waiting for the lunch bell to signify the small ounce of freedom I still contain, I fiddle with my rough hands.

**ten years before**

"Mother I cannot do that." I say with tears flooding my face. "You can and you will! Your father wants me like that so you will do as he says or else hell will fold upward dragging you down under with your screams being silented by the demons!" She yells into my face.

She throws the blade down at my small feet. "Now kill me!" She yells. Nonetheless I could never disobey my mother. "Now Lexy!" She screams into my ear. Shakily I pick up the weapon. She removes her shirt, revealing her bare chest.

She points to the spot her heart is located. "Plunge the knife there and then continue to do this to people. This is our tradition to let the world know that they cannot keep our thoughts equal. We are sane no matter the deepness of our thoughts." She states. Her lips become a thin line and I pierce the knife through her heart.

**present**

That was the first murder I've ever committed. My younger life before the murder, my mother transmitted her thoughts of society and her dark past to me. At a young age I was designated to be a murderer. At a young age my mother created this monster.

Where are this thoughts exploiting from? I never thought of myself as a monster, I've always seen myself as a sane person created the wickedness that human trys to rid. Every person contains evil, I just thought of myself as a person whom shown that its okay to let the evil out.

Am I becoming one of those who believe everyone is supposed to think alike. That we could all be faultless. I cannot think like that, but why did I kill my own mother? Am I really as the girls whom caused me depression say? Am I really a malicious person?

Why have these thoughts just been constantly absorbed into my usally daek filled mind? I tried to push them away but my mind spins. I bawl up into the corner of my bed but my thoughts absorb me whole. I hear the ringing screams of each victims. I hear the begs, the pleas, I hear my mothers words, I hear my fathers, every thought ive ever thunk surrounds me and corners me to the back of my mind.

I scream out for help but it is as if hell has silented my scream. Who would help a spawn of satan whose never helped herself? I feel the monstrosity of tears escalate down my face flooding me like my thoughts. None can hear my begs. I am finally at the breaking point in this hell. I am being let into the demon's gates.

I see that I am a spawn of satan.