I have a secret. A terrible and horrible secret.


I can’t talk. To Anyone. No, that’s not true. I have the ability to talk. I just can’t talk to anyone. And because of that I get picked on a lot. I get beat up, called names like ‘Retard’ and ‘Dumbass.’


I wish I could defend myself. I wish I could put into words all the feelings and pent up emotions I have. But then… I remember why I don’t talk…I can’t let it happen again. So I swallow my anger, and once again suffer in silence.


I’ve transferred to dozens of schools, and endured the belittling of hundreds of kids and bullies. I’m okay, because they rarely through a punch, but that all changed one night when three of my classmates ambushed me when walking home from the library.


Something about there sneers made me angry. And I lost it. I opened my mouth and screamed ‘STOP’ at the top of my lungs.


And when I did…he came out of me. Just like every other time.


“Finally” he said, as the inky black mist of his body rose above me, and my tormentors.


“No! Don’t! Not this time!” I pleaded with him.


“Nonsense, my dear. These mortals were terrible. They were cruel to you, and beat you with their words and fists. Why spare the lives of monsters?”


And as he said it, I thought, he was right. Why should I care? All they did was hurt me. Me! Me who did nothing but protect them with my silence. Shouldn’t they pay for what they did?


He turned back to the bullies, and said in a voice as old as Earth itself, “I’ve been waiting to eat them for such a long time.”


When he finished with them he turned back to me with my head hung and said, “Please cheer up my dear, I was just following the rules. Whomever you talk to, should they first say hurtful words to you, I am allowed to kill.”


With that he returned to the place he came from, and with no one to hear me say it, I answered “I know.”