The Monster Inside

I smile. I respond politely. I wave. I nod. I shake hands. I give hugs. I laugh. I glow with kindness and affection. I appear happy.

Nobody knows that inside I feel like crying. I’m surrounded by people yet, I feel more alone than ever before. It seems as if there’s no way out. I’m tired of pretending I’m happy when I’m not. I’ve tried to be happy, it never works. There is nobody I can trust. There is nobody that truly cares. I’m trapped in my own depression and there’s nothing I can do about it… I’m alone…

My skin whitens. I’m as pale as a ghost. My veins turn to the colour of dried blood and illuminate through my skin. Around my eyes the skin turns black like charcoal and my eyes sink in.

My hair that once flowed and shone becomes stringy and dead. My fingernails, once clean and cut, grow until they’re as strong and sharp as a werewolves' claws. My lips, once soft and as red as rose petals, crack and deepen until they are barely lips at all. Behind them show my newly sharpened teeth, my bite will be worse than a shark's bite.

I hunch. I scream a cackling scream. I tear my clothes to shreds until it looks like I’m wearing dirty rags. Every part of my body transforms into darkness.

Lastly my eyes begin to burn. I close them and the burning stops. When I open my eyes, I can feel my pupils dilating. My blue eyes, once so peaceful and delicate, have turned a deep red showing nothing but merciless evil.  I am a monster.

The monster that has formed rips its way through my insides. I look around. I can sense the fear from everyone I so recently talked to, laughed with and hugged. I want to cry but the monster has torn the tears away, where not even the most pained person could find them. 

I feel my body move and my brain pulse with the evilest of fantasies. My claws flex, my teeth clench and my mouth begins to speak.

“Join me or die,” says a voice. This voice, not my voice, came from me, loud and cruel. Everyone cries, shrieks or swallows hard speechless and petrified. Some begin the transformation. Those with greed and power in their souls, those who only care for their own survival, transform, screaming as if being stabbed repetitively throughout their entire body. Then they stand like me, their eyes filled with hate and their souls filled with pain and sorrow. 

The rest of the people weep and cower in fear, trembling at the mere sight of us. I am thirsty to see them suffer. We begin our attack. We torture and hurt, we claw and we bite, we rip and we tear, and we slaughter and murder many. We pause to look at what we have done. Some hide and some run but it’s no use. They cannot escape me; I see them all and could kill them in a single slash.

“Join me or die,” I repeat in that strange booming cackle. A few more transform. These new monsters are smaller and lighter. Their eyes do not burn red but instead gloss over white. They will not attack unless forced. They only follow in fear. They are so terrified at the thought of my wrath that they would rather kill and become monsters just to avoid it.

Some begin to scream loudly, high pitched and endless. It is not a scream of pain but a cry for help. When no help comes to them they fall, naked and breathless. They were the hopeless ones that wished death over this pain. Their souls lifted and hovered on the spot, translucent tears streaking their faces. Why does everyone have the privilege to cry except me?

The children in the crowd drop too, gently, as all fear is pulled away from them. They are sleeping until their own souls slowly and painlessly draw from them. They are not simply souls, but angels. They smile in their innocence, no idea of what this means but only knowing what they are feeling in the moment.

They hold the hands of the hopeless souls and they too become angels. No longer stained with translucent tears they smile too. Then they frown. They feel helpless to the people around them.