We have all heard the spine tingling tales. The ones that make your hair stand up and your skin feel creepy and crawly all over. We were grown and raised on them. The children in the corn, the monsters under our beds. It is only as we grow that we realize the monsters dwell inside our own minds. The wicked thoughts and feelings that force us to feel them. They are too strong in the moments and we can’t escape them. Only once you embrace yourself, fully embrace yourself for the human being that you are, and accept your mortality as such that you learn to not fear death.
But when you stop fearing death…
Sometimes you welcome it.
This story begins in a small town. Where a simple girl is simply dreaming. She doesn’t have big dreams. She loves to sing, but never fooled herself that she would ever sing on a stage. She loves to watch movies, but always knew she would be watching them on her humble TV. Sitting on her second-hand, stained couch, she cries. She doesn’t fully understand why she is crying. She doesn’t know where to begin. All she knows is these feelings are too big to carry alone. She calls for a friend but none come. She feels the cold air brush past her, making her goosebumps appear. She knows The Wicked Ones are back. She heard them come in. Almost always feels their presence. In the best of times they sink their long black fingernails into the back of her neck. Just a reminder that she is not alone. And her true fear is realized, the fear is not being physically alone, but it is being left alone with the evil thoughts and feelings. It is being alone in the house and hearing the voicesfrom the next room, although they belong to no one other than her own mind. She cannot escape them, unless she escapes herself. She hates that part of herself. She begs for some sense of not being totally alone; of someone understanding her. But the only ones who understand her are The Wicked Ones; and so for tonight, with them she will dwell. She will be quiet. She will appear strong. Inside she is breaking, and The Wicked Ones are smiling.
But when you stop fearing death…
Sometimes you welcome it.
This story begins in a small town. Where a simple girl is simply dreaming. She doesn’t have big dreams. She loves to sing, but never fooled herself that she would ever sing on a stage. She loves to watch movies, but always knew she would be watching them on her humble TV. Sitting on her second-hand, stained couch, she cries. She doesn’t fully understand why she is crying. She doesn’t know where to begin. All she knows is these feelings are too big to carry alone. She calls for a friend but none come. She feels the cold air brush past her, making her goosebumps appear. She knows The Wicked Ones are back. She heard them come in. Almost always feels their presence. In the best of times they sink their long black fingernails into the back of her neck. Just a reminder that she is not alone. And her true fear is realized, the fear is not being physically alone, but it is being left alone with the evil thoughts and feelings. It is being alone in the house and hearing the voicesfrom the next room, although they belong to no one other than her own mind. She cannot escape them, unless she escapes herself. She hates that part of herself. She begs for some sense of not being totally alone; of someone understanding her. But the only ones who understand her are The Wicked Ones; and so for tonight, with them she will dwell. She will be quiet. She will appear strong. Inside she is breaking, and The Wicked Ones are smiling.
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