I am so inactive lol oops. Remember to diamond, favourite and subscribe, thanks. The concept of this story is based on sensitive topics: bullying and mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety and hallucinations/delusions. It also shadows eating disorders. If you yourself are suffering from anything or you're being bullied, there will always be someone that can help.
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There is so much pain. Everywhere I go, there are swirls of darkness emitting from everyone. Agony and depression delving deep inside them and twisting their weak hearts. Humans are expected to function at daytime, because that is when the monsters can see them. In the day, the things can grasp hold of their limp bodies and suck their souls out, replacing the happiness with negativity. At least, that's what people say. But there is so much more complexity to that, such things that even I cannot explain. It is causing humans to become simple minded toys, used to feel misery. A lot of them are also controlled to commit the acts in order to protect the monsters. 

These days, the only emotions we feel are pessimistic. People pity upon themselves, seeking attention purely because their minds are frozen in a permanent battle, a battle that will never be won. Darkness is the only aura - light faded away years ago. Never in my life have I seen someone with a positive aura. Occasionally, there will be somebody with a grey shaded aura, which means they are attempting to prevent the bad thoughts that angst their brain. However, it wouldn't be long until they lapsed back into a meaningless black. No one could overcome their demons.

I don't think anyone else could see what came from them - it was only me. I was forced to walk around this world, forced to empthasize with the victims who were too feeble to win their wars. I suppose it turned me bitter; I became worse than any of them. Everyday, I would look into the mirror of my home, and see this hideous, unwanted thing that others tormented because she wasn't good enough. I would snatch at the fat that hung off of my skeleton, demanding it to leave. I hadn't wanted it to be there, but everything happened for a reason. I had to endure being undesirable because it was my punishment for seeing the things that no one else saw. If anyone knew, I'd be dumped into some mental hospital and 'reconditioned' like some sort of lab rat. No one wanted to comprehend what was happened to them, so they had to pull the curtain back. It was like shutting a window that had a broken lock - as much as they wanted to keep the wailing wind outside, it would always find a way to get inside. Eventually, they would have to look the demons in the face and they wouldn't win. I salivated for when that time came.

Food was needed for us to survive. So many people attempted to avoid it, whilst others shoved too much into their systems, causing them to bulge and explode like a balloon being stood on. I was one of the weak ones. After I returned from what they called 'school' (it was more of Satanic hell), where I'd been abused physically and verbally, I would head straight to to the kitchen. Junk food was stored in the corner of the room - far away from the healthy foods. My parents feared that if the foods were closer, their brains would immediately go to the 'fatty' food. Really, I was the only one who went to the junk food. I would shove crisps, chocolates, sweets into my gaping mouth, tears pouring down my clotted face. Then afterwards, I made myself throw up it all, the sick oozing all over the toilet seat. On the weekends, I would stay in my bed, ignoring the painful rumbles that pounded in my starved stomach. I had to be strong. If I went outside and saw all of those unhappy, it would affect me and then I'd be back in the kitchen, cramming food in. 

Then, at night time, the things would come. I would be whimpering in my bed, my eyes tightly closed, but the whispers soon crawled their way into my mind. 

Kill yourself. You'd be better off dead. No one likes a fat girl like you. Who wants an ugly girl? Everything is all your fault.

Despite how much I sobbed and told them to leave, they never would. In the end, I would have to turn the lights on, and as quick as that, the evil vapour would disappear from my bed. It was as if the light was their weakness - no matter how dull it was, they would die. But they would always return the next night, and I'd have to repeat the same actions. If I fell asleep, they'd come back anyway. Everytime my terrible mind would wander off into nightmares, the voices would come creeping back inside, always finding a way in. Staying awake was the only way.

I felt myself slipping away. Sometimes I imagined myself disappearing away from this cruel world. I knew that one day, it would arrive and I'd give in.

I always gave in.