Saturday, September 17, 2011

I look in the mirror and I don't see myself anymore. I never see myself. I've changed. I'm a monster. I'm a murderer. I killed and I ripped and I tore her apart.

I look in the mirror, and I am faceless.

I know I'm just seeing things. It's just a trick of the mind, isn't it? Just a guilty conscience projecting itself outward as a hallucination. Just like the blood that is still on my face, no matter how much I scrub. I'm not that which killed Kiera. I'm just the man who helped It.

But if I'm just the man who helped It, why do I remember what it felt like to tear through her flesh? Why do I know the warmth of her blood and the feel of her organs?

Guilt. The answer lies in guilt.

I have to get this off my mind. I have to move on. Yet, every time my eyes close, hers open, accusing me. Every time I see myself, I see a monster staring back at me. Every time I see Judith, I know what I did to get her back. How do I move on when everything is a reminder of what I've done, what I had to do?

I had to do it, don't you see? I had to do it.

Judith was all I had left. Judith is all I have left. I traded the last piece of Damien's story for the last piece of mine. It was survival. That's it. Just survival.

Her eyes accuse my facelessness.


  1. Stay strong, Damien.
    We're here for you, no matter what happens.

  2. ^Damien? ha, that's funny, i was just thinking that he's starting to doubt reality just as Damien did at the end of DiD.

    I am worried about Judith, i really doubt she's ok with her psycho boyfriend and after being mind raped by the arsonist