Depressions Demon

Part 1

It's back again. The shadow, its come back. It always does, yet I'm still scared. Laughing menacingly, the creature comes closer, shoving me into a corner; I'm surrounded. Fear possesses my body, but I'm unfazed. It won't hurt me, at least not physically. Its lanky legs are like metal bars. Is this what prison feels like? Being trapped? Alone?

Crouching down, cocking its head to the side, staring me down. I close my eyes, looking for comfort, closing in on myself, being a smaller target. It's still there. Haunting me. That shit eating grin that's always glued to its face, it loves my pain, my fear, that's its fuel. Bloody eyes, dripping with madness, ripping my soul apart, tearing me to pieces. The boney hands piercing my skin, using its nails to scar my insides, limb from limb, putting me apart.

"It's not real, it's not real," I mutter to no one, "Move you piece of shit, MOVE!" But it won't, my arm won't move, I can't stop it. I'm useless.

Retracting its claws like a lion, pulling its arm away. Patronising me by slowly standing. I want to cry. I know its next move, but I can't stop it. I'm small, so small. I'm weak. Licking its lips, showing me their white daggers like they are worth millions. The grin. The same fucking grin I have nightmares about every night. Somehow, it never fails to surprise me. Shining its eyes, flashing greed. I'm its next meal. Fear plastered on my face as it leans down, edging closer to me by the second.

That feeling, the feeling, sensation I get every time. It's like a needle at first, just a prick. But the torture of it slowly shucking out your blood, your soul, is something no one can forget.