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The Real Monsters
They always fed the darkness with their counters and insults. Their icy grip would freeze a body ten times over, leaving shivers send down one’s spine. The way they slowly ran the knife down an arm or two made those with great strength wince and cripple under their burden. The whispers were cool. The smoothness made one question themselves and maybe others. They would never let go with their claws and fangs. Silence would never dawn upon the nagging hisses. Giggles were mocking. Orders were crippling. There was no way to escape.
Darkness was overwhelming, sending fear dash across my eyes. Uncertainty tugged at the collar of my shirt, and questions sparked my mind. Here they were, masked behind familiar faces, hidden with happiness under the cold words they said.
Maybe you should. Maybe you could. The world could change, for the good of course. We will. We must. We can.
They always would make me think, always make me ponder upon question and question over again. They threw in lies, demands, and thoughts on the future. They would tear me apart until I was numb and could no longer stand the pain. They left me beg for mercy, though I didn’t give in.
It is for the better…
No, I’ve had enough. I will never listen to the menacing voices again. This is the age to break free from the second-thoughts that flash across the mind. This is the age to never look back, never ponder on what could’ve happen and what can happen. We need to look ahead. We have to bring down the second-thoughts, exactly like they would bring us down.
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