IT…whatever it…is…or They or whatever…it follows. Sometimes it shows up as one. Tall, short black hair like a military high and tight and yet it feels so much older. Like that hair cut is out of place for how old it is. His skin is pale white and he’s so handsome…but cruel. And I liked that.
It started when I was younger. I want to say maybe 7? The house I lived in had some dark stuff in it, I think. It affected everyone differently. Me, however, it would have me writing hundreds of pages of the same story over and over and over again. A girl, long black hair, skin so white that she looked like a China doll and bright glacial blue eyes. I want to say she was 19? 20? I know her name because it was the same in the story every time.
The man (sometimes 3 men, but the one with the black hair was the worst) was this girl’s nightmare in the story…and yet at the same time, an addiction.
A big white house in the middle of nowhere, a stone wall all around for miles…lots of wood floors, and a big dark room built of stone…the girl in the story was terrified of that room because of the things that happened there…because anytime she fucked up…well…that’s a different part of the story.
I had a great childhood. I make sure to say that because every psychologist I’ve ever been to has asked that first. This…thing…however, has followed me. I started seeking it out when I got old enough to. Any man who could show me just a little bit of what the man from my nightmares showed me. I found it too. Many times. I’d beg for it to end and yet when the pain ended, I would need it again. Like an addiction. I still need it.
I still feel like he’s right over my shoulder, ALWAYS. Just watching and waiting.
Not sure what it is…but spoke to someone about it today…this is another big part of what brought me to BALG. Just needed to get it out…
