The monster inside me

A story of regret, a story of thought, a story of internal pain.

I was lying in bed, thinking about what I had done. What had gotten into me? Why did I do that? I rolled over and sighed. I scrutinized the patterns on the ceiling, as if they had the answer.

That monster inside me. It occasionally surfaced, and it made me explode into someone I’m not. It made other people think I’m someone I’m not.

She probably hated me now. Just as it was going to get better, that stupid monster had to come out from the deep recesses of my mind and show itself. I was literally not me. She probably didn’t realize that. I don’t know why it happened; I was just calm one minute and red with rage the next. I didn’t even realize what was happening until it happened. I almost don’t recall myself bursting like that. In fact, I don’t remember it at all. The only evidence that it ever had happened was her face, streaked with tears. Tears all over, her nose red, her throat probably sore from trying to keep back the sobs that occasionally escaped from her lungs. Her face contorted into a face of pain, trying not to show how hurt she was.

I made her hurt that much.

How did it even happen? What happened that made me turn into the monster I was? Was it something she’d said? Was it something I’d said? Maybe both? I don’t think it was either of them. It was just like that horrendous entity inside me had been suppressed too long, and it decided to just burst out with a flash. A bright, blinding flash of tomato red light, taking over my very essence, just shooting out to get the point across.

I don’t even remember the point I was trying to make. I don’t remember why it happened. I don’t remember how it happened. All I remember is her face. Her tear streaked, horrified face. She was probably never going to speak to me ever again. I probably wouldn’t be able to face her ever again.

All the good times we had together. All of our happy memories. They are all probably forgotten in her mind. All she probably remembers when she thinks my name is the time I blew up, made her cry harder than she had ever cried before, hurt her with a pain that no one had ever given her before. I was no longer her friend, I was her haunting spirit.

All because of that monster inside of me.

The End

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