Diary Of A Psychopath, The Crossover.

I sit here alone, crippled and angry. My eyes have swollen from the crying, they throb endlessly with the pulse inside my blood shot capillaries. My face is all wet. Tracks of tears are spread across my cheek. My eyebrows twitch slightly as I try to find some sort of facial expression to put on my face. My hair are messed up, some of the layers are covering my cheek, wet from the consistent crying. My lips are chapped and torn. A spot of blood is at the corner of my lips, probably caused by me biting on it as I tried to suppress my anger.

A mirror stood in front of me. My reflection looked shattered. I looked wasted, used. I saw how my eyes had bags underneath them. My forehead bore wrinkles.  My hands, as I lifted them, were dry and furrowed. The veins were visible on my wrist.

After months of fighting with the sadness within me, I finally gave up. Hell was let lose as my eroded inner conquered me and forced me to shed every single tear I had left in me. My vocal chords were damaged as I shrieked and screamed to relieve myself from the tension. I saw few strand of hair lying on the floor. I remembered how my depression took control of my hands and forced me to pull out my hair in frustration. The feeling was so numb. Relief only came when I would hurt myself. I clawed at my own face, and right at the corner of my lips was a scar, as if my nails had completely dug out the skin. I was broken.

Not a single person in this world could set me free. Their facades had fooled me once, twice, several times. I gave up trying to get help and on my own, locked in this shabby, dusty bedroom, I let my heart pour.

I talked to the walls, drew on them. The creaking of the wooden floor was my favourite sound of music. The mirror standing in front of me, was my new best friend. The person in it knew exactly how I felt. She understood me.

Days past by and I was more convinced to kill myself. Death would set my soul in peace from the monster that took birth inside of me, taking place of an actual human baby. I had given birth to my own worst nightmare, my own fear.