In a dark room, I will see it, picture behind me. It has a rotting face, the face of an animal, a dog perhaps, a wolf or a coyote. Maybe a jackel. I don't know. It has no eyes, only decay where its face was once. A cloak of red to hid the rest. I picture it behind me in the dark, always. Always. And my heart beats faster & faster and sometimes I turn quickly and look behind me, and what is there? There is nothing there. Of course. They're never anything there. It's my...my imagination. Right?
I am afraid of the dark.
I am afraid.
I am afraid.
I am so afraid...
I don't feel safe. When I go to bed at night, I lay there in the dark and I just picture it and I hide beneath my covers like a child, who cries about the monster in the closet.
I've left chilhood now.
But the monster in my closet never stopped stalking me.
[Itsnotalie.]
Cheza Calanthe Community Member |
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