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My Demon



I have this demon. It's moving inside of me. It's like in the

pit of my stomach. It reacts to my thoughts, with a

childlike emotional spectrum. Now, some people have a

gut feeling. No, this is not one of those. This is far

different. I have one of those too, it's dulled by my demon

to the point where at times, I cannot even feel it.



You must be thinking, lock this girl up. Chain her to a stake

set her ablaze. Thoughts that I myself would have thought

at one point in time. Well, maybe not. This demon has

been there since the neanderthals dwelt in the dark,

dark caves. This demon has existed far longer than even

I. Now, I am not claiming to be the most aged. I would

never think that. I do feel though, that it has been some

time since my creation. Was I created by this demon? Am

I destined to be under his control for the rest of my

existence?



At times when it's angered I feel it like an angry snake.

Moving in my intestines. It feels as though, there is a child

in my womb. As though there is something in there that

shouldn't be. However, how do you destroy your lifeforce,

source of power if you will, without destroying yourself?

These questions I cannot fathom to answer. I can only

wonder.



My demon has an avatar. He breathes and eats. Lives his

life pretending to be human. He knows, though no one else

does. No one KNOWS him. You would look at him and think

nothing of him if he wanted for you to. Though, every eye

in the room is always on him. You don't know why you

can't look away, but still your eyes stay locked into place.



If I tried hard enough I could break away from him.

Though, what kind of a life would that be. It would be like

a human that lived in the fairy court their whole life only

to be returned to humanity at twenty and left to live

without the glamour. The high that you get just being

around the fae. No, that would be no sort of life at all.



Though, what if it weren't like that? What if it were more

like, say a human who gives up using blow? They might

ache for a while, though they will get back on their feet

and rejoin everyone else. What if my addiction could be

conquered?



This is not an addiction, this is what I am made of. The

energy that was twisted and distorted beyond recognition,

only to shape me. This is who I am. Forever to be bound to

my demon. No, my god.



I held my hands out, felt the cold of the metal clasping

around my wrists and ankles. Just as I held my breath the

first time he kissed me. The first time we touched. He had

me before "Hello." I never even had a chance to blink.





©2009 Lacie Rose