Demons consume the very essence of oneÃÂs soul. The monsterÃÂs lurking underyour bed is very real indeed. Subconsciously we place each of these fears into ourconscious state brining nightmares to life. The demonÃÂs very purpose is being hell benton brining pain and suffering to those whom they deem tainted. But those are the externaldemons; my greatest fears are the demons inside me. Sleepless nights subjugated me to alife under the moon. I drive my body to the point of exhaustion in hopes of falling into astate of unconsciousness. Anger, pain, and fear drive this demon I see every night insidemyself. From seeing this very demon in a man once a part of my life forces me toovercome this obstacle in trying to decide my own future. This man was my father;someone so cruel and monstrous couldnÃÂt be a model of my future. Experiencing firsthand the lies and deceit that a demon can unleash was minuscule compared to the purerage that boils within them.
I remember my fatherÃÂs face flaring to a bright red with veinsbulging from his neck, but the light snarl that was muffled under his breathe was morethan enough to instill a lifetime of fear for the demon within. Those images are a constantstruggle within me, forcing me to consider my actions before I make them.
Every night I see the demon the haunts my dreams. I see him standing at the doorto the bathroom, and with a grip so firm the tips of his fingers were beginning to turnwhite. That grip encompassed the steel instrument of manÃÂs power. On the floor coweringby the tub is some poor innocent kid begging for help. Yet the demon seemed as if hewas feeding off this fear, slowly across his face appeared a smirk so sinister itÃÂd put theHollywood villains to shame. His eyes radiated with a glow from a fire, his pupils blacklike that of brimstone, and a repulsing sense of joy from the suffering of others. But themost hideous trait is the fact that it was I that committed these heinous acts back in myyouth. This very nature is my epitome and my worse nightmare, having to relive myturning point from damnation or salvation. The beaded sweat drenched cold sheets greetme from my slumbers. My heart racing like a horse and tears swelling like a waterballoon waiting to burst are only a few of my everyday morning rituals that help me tocope with my fear of becoming consumed.
Each night this demon appears, chuckling in delight to the pain of others. Histeeth appeared to be filed to razor edges, with skin paler than the dead themselves, and aninsatiable appetite for the souls of the innocent. The demon makes his way into theapartment forcing his way to the back. Steam seemed to waver off his neck while glaringat the kid scrambling into the bathroom. The demon smiles with anticipation, as hereaches inside the midnight black hoody that entrenches him. A glare breaks from thepocket, the light bouncing off the cold hard steel which the demon now clasped. He drewthe instrument of death towards the kid hoping to feed off his essence. The tears forhumanity poured down the kids cheeks, but the demon was filled with none. As the kidpleads for help, clenching his hands around the loose jean leggings of the demon, thedemon slowly begins to clench the trigger, and thatÃÂs when it all ends. Waking up in ariver of my own sweat, the image of the demonÃÂs glee etched into my brain, tears trickledown my cheeks in remembrance of the battle I wage each day inside myself.
The fragile boy in my dreams inspires me to fight for a brighter world. The fearand anguish brought upon him was tragic. Reliving this nightmare helps to center mythoughts, allowing a once clouded philosopher solace within himself. I fear that if Iignore these nightmares I might one day become trapped within the ever burning gates ofeternal damnation forced to bring about suffering and fear to otherÃÂs in this world that areundeserving of such horrendous actions. Circumstances aside should not have dictatedmy actions towards the kid; instead I should have considered the outcomes of mydecisions and weighted them to the pain and suffering I was causing. But the past is justthat, in the past, and I canÃÂt change it. All I can do is learn from my inner demons andkeep them locked up within the nightmares.