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Monsters
I never had a monster in my closet. I never had a monster under my bed. The only monster I ever saw, lived with me. Nobody else saw that he was a monster because when he was around others he put on a disguise. I tried to tell others about how he was a monster. I got called a liar. People stopped listening to me. The monster fed everyone lies about me. And of course, everyone believed the monster and not me. The monster always lied to me. The monster said he cared, but he was lying. He never cared when I was scared. He didn't care when I was struggling with my mental health. All he ever did was lie. He said he'd never hit me. That was just another one of his lies. He made up lies about my mother and tried to get me to turn my back on her. For years I listened to the monster's lies. This monster was cruel. This monster had anger issues. He didn't control his anger and lashed out. Then he'd blame me or act as if nothing happened. I wish the monster would look in a mirror. A long time ago this monster wasn't a monster. This monster use to be my father. But anger overtook him, and he became a monster. The only way to make himself feel better seemed to make me feel horrible. He says he doesn't mean what he said or does, then why does he do it? I wish I had a monster in my closet instead. I wish I had a monster under my bed instead. This monster seems to be the worse. He's always there, like a shadow. Trying to get people to be his puppets. Brainwashing them so they think I am the monster. I've heard his lies for years. Sometimes my mind doesn't know who the monster is and who the victim is because of his lies. Am I the monster or am I the victim? After a while, I stopped listening to the monster's lies. I started to fight back. But that only caused the monster to grow. I don't want this monster. I want my Dad back.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things