I'm Too Scared to Face Hell Again

*Hell is a real thing; very real I tell you. At least in my head, it is.*

*I started out fine, I‘ve had to deal with shit during my childhood but I didn’t take much toll on me. What Emily did, however, that was the thing that fucked me up the most. Or maybe not… Anyway, just imagine your best friend and eventual love interest telling you they might kill themselves.*

*“I‘m going, love you man… I probably won’t be back… If I’m not back by Sunday, know that I did it. Move on... I love you… but please move on… I love you so much. “*

*That was the text that blew my sanity into bits and pieces. For three days after that text, my mind and body were running at 300 miles per hour. Anxiety, Panic, call it whatever you like. I was stressing out like crazy about this girl. Fearing for the worst.*

*She came back, unscathed apparently… I found that out far too late.*

*She just liked the attention and had some sick sense of humor for all I know.*

*My body calmed down eventually, my mind never slowed down, however. That was eight years ago.*

*Ever since that god-damned day, my mind is spinning around itself in a hellish dance whenever the world around me gets quiet.*

*It’s like I have these voices in my head telling me to kill myself sometimes, other times they tell me to hurt other people. And since I don’t they scream it me, they‘re spewing their poisonous rhetoric at me, telling how useless and pathetic I am.*

*When I give in and succumb to their diabolical demands; when I stop trying to block them out. Everything hurts so bad; each breath feels as if I‘m snorting nails, my limbs feel as if they’re about to fall off and my insides turn in a nauseating fashion.*

*It gets far worse at night; I get paranoid, I feel like something is constantly watching me from the darkest corners of my room. I feel like something is about to pounce me. I‘m pretty sure I‘ve seen it move. I don’t even know if it‘s in my head or not.*

*I felt it touch me with it‘s cold, boney, leathering appendages more than once.*

*I felt its cold, foul breath caressing the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.*

*It must be a real thing; I remember when we had ceiling fans in the house, one of them would start working on its own whenever nobody looked.*

*I‘m so fucked up because of whatever is haunting my psyche that I can’t sleep in complete darkness, I always leave the tv on. If I don’t, I can see the shadowy mass crawling out of my closet or from underneath the bed.*

*I‘m somewhat certain that I‘ve had the misfortune of seeing its face one night; I turned around, and I saw what appeared to be a decomposing barely human visage staring at me from the corner of my room. The sight served as a rude awakening and when I looked again, there was nothing in my room.*

*I‘m certain I‘m just losing my mind.*

*Then again, I don’t think the dreams I‘ve had are natural. I‘ve dreamed of a depressed clown sawing his own head off. I‘ve dreamed about a raccoon doll killing the grandparents of a child in brutal fashion before lying to him that they’re just asleep. I‘ve dreamed of a street filled with crucified people, bleeding and crying in agony. I‘ve dreamed of an alleyway filled with women who had hung themselves from the street lamps. That one was really fucked up because a sort of dramatic music played in the background of that dream… almost like my own mind was mocking itself.*

*Maybe it‘s not my mind that’s giving me these nightmares.*

*Maybe it‘s the monster that’s hiding somewhere in my closet, under my bed…Nah it‘s just in the depths of my own fucking head.*

*Whatever it is; it even made me think about how some of my friends would die… I visualized, unwillingly, how some of my friends were torn to shreds by a skinless horse-human hybrid thing. The images just flashed through my head and I couldn’t shake them off until they were over. No matter how hard I tried to stop these thoughts they would go away until the carnage finished playing out in front of my eyes.*

*It didn’t stop until I felt like shit.*

*Sometimes I see the faces of my deceased friends in the distance when it‘s dark, I don’t even know if it‘s me hallucinating or just my fucked-up imagination.*

*Nothing compares to last night, however, as I was falling asleep, I saw Melissa, a friend of mine who had died in a car crash four years ago crawling out of my closet. Her skin was deathly-blue and her face was contorted into this unnatural scream but no sound came out of her blackened mouth. She just made her way slowly out of the darkness through the small crack left unsealed by the closet door. Her movements were awkward as her apparition twitched in a way that could make anyone’s stomach turn.*

*The moment my eyes met the white orbs in her eye sockets she turned into a white powder and faded away as a freezing chill ran through my body.*

*I haven’t slept yet, I‘m not even sure I can sleep…*

*I‘m too scared to face hell again.*