You know how to stay strong for others because no one understands the feeling of being alone, weak and being terrified better than you. You can help them become the best version of themselves because you always see the best in everyone, even when they always see the worst in you.
Nobody can seem to agree on what this is.
Apparently evil can exist on the internet.
It took me a long time (probably only a couple of minutes in actual meditative time) to gain his trust and have him accept me enough to even stand near me, or to hold my hand. He was angry at me. And for a good reason.
He never explained how he got my address or why he chose me to share his story with. But the story was brutal.
It took me several long moments to open eyes that I didn’t remember closing and turn them towards the direction of the voice. It was still dark in the room – much darker than should have been possible, given that it was still the middle of the afternoon – and very little was visible. And yet there, in the corner of the room, I saw a shadow, just a touch blacker than the rest of the darkness around it, reaching for my mother.
Are there demons, or is this woman full of shit?
I seriously don’t know what to do…
“I did not even hesitate; I jumped out my window, and the moment I was out I heard the door to my room slam open and heard what I can only describe as a whispered scream of rage.”
They weren’t human: they were demons. Demons using the carnival setting to masquerade among the living. The more I looked at the crowd, the more otherworldly creatures I saw. The old woman in the wheelchair? A fiery beast on a chariot of thorns. The duo hitting on a pregnant woman? They were feathered beasts with crooked yellow teeth.