Friday, December 26, 2014

The monster

The observer flipped through an old book. The pages were musty and brown. They let off a smell which convinced the observer that they they hadn't been opened for nearly a decade.
The pages crackled under her fingers. She delicately fingered them, like butterflies, so delicate that even a touch could mar them forever.
She paused to to take in the words from random pages.
Broken, hurt, lonely........
They swept past her eyes, like a moving vehicle. They blurred past her eyes, all these words that were all to familiar to her. She had seen this words way too many times. Until she stopped where the page boldly proclaimed
I am the monster of the night
Fear me, for I am the one
Your mother warned you against,
When misbehavior danced across your face like a firefly.
The one that haunted your nightmares.

I lurk in the dark shadow,
Waiting to pounce you.
To make every drop 
Of your blood, mine.
To tear you apart, destroy yo
For you have made me this.
You have made me the face the face 
That children cower from in fear. 
The one that's greeted by only
Look at what you have done to me.

Look at me now.

The observer shivered, and the book fell from her hand. The pages fluttered out of the book. There was just one that remained in her hand. 
She had just realized that there were monsters. 
And so many of them.

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