I have scars; physical and emotional, and they all lead to something stronger than me. Demons are real, they live inside of us, and sometimes they win. They make you do things you never thought you would do. They take over your body with pure evil emotion. The demons make you focus on hate; and that hate is the truth. That pain from the truth is what keeps me alive. The cuts, the scars, and the bruises tell me about my past and present, leaving me with a terrible story.
Someone did this to me; they made me this way. Maybe one day, those assholes will see what they did to me and take it back. Or maybe they wont.