When you spend so much time fearing the monsters- feeling disgusted by them, watching them in your daily life like one would observe a rabid wolf- you don't realize that you yourself have become the very thing you so despised until it's too late.
The change was so slow, so gradual, that there was nothing you would have, or could have, done. Yet the guilt of knowing hits you hard, a jack hammer to the heart, and the sorrow consumes you.
"Why did I become this? How did I become this?" Meaningless questions with meaningless answers- the fact is you are what you are, and you can't change the past. Small moments fly through your head- small, seemingly insignificant moments that are, perhaps, what made you this way. The time you laughed at a cruel joke, the time you made a cruel joke- all little things that are suddenly at the forefront of any and all thoughts.
Then you think of THE MOMENT- the straw that broke the camel's back, the tack in the tire- the moment that truly made you a monster.
The thought of it disgusts you- no, ENRAGES you. How could you have done that? How could you have let THAT happen? There's no real blood on your hands, but there's hate, lies, distrust. The blood of a monster. It stains your skin and clogs your senses now, and everywhere you go it follows. Your shadow. The constant presence that reminds you of your sin, the burden you now carry because of your own foolish mistakes. Even when you can't see it, maybe you forget it's there or maybe the sun wasn't bright enough that day, it will come back. The shadow with its army of storm clouds of self-hate, loathing, depression and guilt- and you, their monstrous leader.
That one moment has ruined you, threw you off course, demolished everything you thought was truth and light- and now you're left to watch as the people you love leave you, as they take parts of yourself with them. The more they take, the more the monster you are is exposed, until one day, there will be nothing left but pain and bitterness. When did life go from being an adventure, to a game? When did that game go from being Monopoly to Jenga? The blocks would have been solid if you hadn't gone too far, and now the structure has toppled and you've lost. How does it feel to be the villain in your own story?
How does it feel to be the monster at the end of the book?
YOU ARE READING
Not Crazy
HorrorThey hide right under your nose; the strong-headed people you can always count on to never feel, but to always be offended. He doesn't seem like he would be able, but the one thing you should know is- They're always capable. We're always capable. ...
