Lies in my head


People don’t tell me everything and it seems like an injustice to our relationship. I assume they think I’m just to fragile to handle their issues. I’ve been kicked and thrown down in this miserable life of mine but I’m still here kicking and screaming. Incessantly, I get abused by people who consider themselves close to me. I wear my heart on my sleeve; quick to give it away because I desperately yearn for someone to love me. I have a strong support system but I feel terribly lonely. I have no close friends and no boyfriend. I recently started getting high with household products; needed something to keep me on cloud 9.

My emotional scars are deep and they bleed. There are those who try to drive me crazy or try to make me believe that I’m crazy. I know they are envious of me for some reason that is beyond me. I keep trying to find Mr. Right, but he always rejects me. In friendships, I sabotage myself because I’m always scared that they will hurt me so I hurt them first. I’m paranoid. I think that everyone is after me; they all want to hurt me or worse. Every night I sleep with death and cuddle up to the demons that eat at my brain. Sprawled on the floor like a dead animal, I count the days till I’m expired.

“Don’t just lay there like a nincompoop” someone said in a cold voice. I turned my head over to the left, my eyes were blurry and I could barely make out the figure that was kneeling towards me. I closed my eyes, then opened them again. This time I could make out a long nose, too long to be human. It had pointy ears on top of its head and huge eyes. I must be hallucinating, hence the fact that I just inhaled all the household cleaning products I could find.

“You’re not real” I whispered.

“I’m very real” It responded. I reached out my left hand and touched its left arm. It was very scaly but yet soft at the same time; not human at all.

“What are you?” I suspiciously asked.

“I’m complicated” it sighed.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“It’s Mr. Winter to you” it sneered.

“He’s social awkward” someone sarcastically said from my right; I turned to face a red faced creature with horns on its head.

“Are you the-the-the devil?” I stuttered.

“Oh dear God, no, he’s a bloody awful bloke, I’m a demon” it gleefully cried out. A demon? This was getting really weird.

“So what’s your name?” I asked the demon.

“I’m demon” it responded.

“I know you’re a demon, what is your name?” I asked oh so agitated.

“Folks weren’t so bright, so they named me, Demon” the demon said in abashment.

“Oh, so sorry” I smiled.

“Don’t be, there are hundreds of Demons” someone said in a high pitched squeal from behind me. Let me see, a talking chubby pig, I thought.

“What gave me away?” the talking pig exuberantly asked me.

“You can read minds?!” I yelled as I pulled myself up to face it.

“Ooh, she’s smart!” the talking pig jumped up with joy. “I’m Hubert, by the way, how do you do?” it reached out its hand for me to shake it. I looked at it skeptically for a few seconds, but then decided to be civilized with the talking pig. Its hands were small, soft, and warm. They reminded me of a baby’s hand.

Suddenly, I was overcome with a wild urge to stab myself with a pen just to prove if this was real or not. I quickly grabbed a pen that was right by my left foot and stabbed my left thigh with it.

“Ouch!” I screamed in pain.

“Maybe, she’s not too bright” Mr. Winter laughed. They were real. I wondered why they were here with me in my room and what they wanted from me. This was just so completely mad. I assumed I went bonkers.

“You’re not crazy” Hubert comforted me as he patted my back.

“We’re here to help you” Demon smirked at me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s