I can feel it inside; writhing, shrieking, tearing me apart.

It’s frantic.  It wants to escape, to be free from the combines of my feeble human body.

My hands grip my ears, trying to block out its garbled, high-pitched plea.

let me out!  Let Me Out!  LET ME OUT!

I collapse on the ground as my body burns in a cold fire, my limbs twitching and thrashing.  I struggle to breathe, drowning in nothingness.

I can feel it moving, clawing its way out of me, constricting my lungs and crushing my heart.

I can’t hold on any longer.  My eyes throb with tears as I raise my arms to the heavens, to the moon, whose pureness and light scorches my soul.

The moon, who shrouds me in cold, dejecting light while it bathes the rest of the world in its warmth and hope.

I hate the moon.

A cry of anguish flies from my throat as I release the darkness inside from its cage.

Tendrils of pitch interlace my fingertips and snake around my arms.  They sprout from my hands like flowers in a field.

The darkness climbs into the sky; blocking the stars, turning the navy sky into an endless abyss of ebony.

The darkness envelops the moon and chokes its light.  I watch with empty eyes as the world is cast into a night from which it won’t ever return.


It is released; the darkness will slither into every heart, every home, destroying everything that still holds onto the light.

I feel so weak.

I lie down on the cold, hard earth, numb from head to toe.  I have no urge to move, no urge to do anything.


It eventually came back for me, wrapping me in its cold fingers.

It seeped into my bones and emptied my heart of all feeling.


Now I, like the wretched moon, am eternally consumed in darkness.

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