Girl is Monster

Monday, August 09

By Sasha Khanin

Nothing means anything until it’s true. It didn’t matter what you called me, as long as I could justify to myself that it wasn’t true. But as soon as your bold accusations began to hold even a flicker of truth in its shuddering light, I began to panic. An acute, yet prevalent ache began to gnaw at me from inside. The conviction of your condemnation of me tangled every vein and muscle in my heart into an impenetrable ball of steel yarn that only you could unravel with the repeal of your judgment, to my greatest disdain. Not only had you insultingly dissected and defined me, you had been accurate. You were beginning to know me in the distorted, mirroring way I view myself. 

I have nightmares in which I am the monster you believe me to be and tell me I am. In the dreams, I want to hurt, to spite, and as the pools of vermillion surround and drench me, I’m suffocated, not by the menacing viscosity of the blood, but by the lack of my own remorse, accompanied by none other than the thought of how horribly I would do in prison and how I am exactly what I hoped I wasn’t. It wasn’t just my lack of compassion that curdled my own rivers of red, but how often the dreams came to me. They all seemed to gush, you are the problem, you are the monster here. The recurring dreams masquerading as nightmares all casted with the same idea, different victims, same villain surrounded me with my own vices, mind, demons, intentions, evil, and everything in between. 

I try to run, to escape my own insanity, my own disease. But there is nowhere to go because the monster is inside of me, clawing and wretching to expose herself to the world. I cannot remove her because to do so would be to eradicate the very bane of my existence. I almost find it funny that I used to be afraid of the monster lurking in the shadows behind my bedroom door, watching from my living room window, under my bed, on my walls and ceiling. It’s far more frightening to come to the epiphany that I will never not be in the vicinity of the monster, nor will the monster ever be liberated from my presence. Because as I tried to forge the dichotomy between girl and monster, I realized that they are one and the same. 

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