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…I've felt the hate rise up in me…
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There's this thing (or should he say monster?) inside of him, snarling and clawing at his insides. It seems to grow stronger and stronger every time he's around them (the pretenders) and now he isn't sure that he can contain it anymore. He doesn't really know why their simple questions annoy him so much, why all he wants to do is scream and run and rage every time they so much as look at him. He knows that it wasn't always like this, can recall times when he's actually enjoyed their company; but now it's hard to imagine doing such things.
It's rather hard to enjoy and converse with something that you just want to go away, isn't it?
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…I wander out where you can't see…
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They just can't seem to understand him, can't wrap their petty little heads around the being (creature) that is him. They don't know how much control it takes not to let the thing (monster) take control and push them all forever away. And god help him, he wants to let it take control, wants to tear them apart with his words as they've done to him so many times before; but another part of him (the human part) won't allow it. It knows that he cared about them once before and knows that even though they're nothing more than nuisances now, they did mean something once.
He wonders what they'd do if they knew how fragile their existence in his life is.
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…Inside my shell I wait and bleed…
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He can hardly stand the sight of them anymore. They (the pretenders) think that he's just becoming antisocial, that he has problems, that he's messed up, that he needs help. And while that may be true, the only true problems he has is them.
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…Get outta my head cause I don't need this…
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He doesn't know when their lectures began to fall on deaf ears, doesn't know when he stopped caring, all that he knows is that it is increasingly hard not to laugh when they go on their angry tirades. Do they think that he cares? That he gives a damn what they think about him and his actions? That he'll change himself to make them happy?
…The sad part is that he did once.
(He can hear the thing (monster) snarling at this; pathetic.)
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…You haven't learned a thing, I haven't changed a thing…
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They're so ignorant, so trusting. It sickens him. He doesn't care about their stupid tales, doesn't care about what's wrong with her, or who he fucked last night. He just doesn't care. He never has. He pretends that he does, in order to fit in, to be 'human'… But he doesn't really know what that is.
Humans are cruel selfish creatures, and so are monsters at times, but when it comes down to it… Who is truly the worst species?
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…The pain was always free…
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There's this thing (monster) inside of him, and it's getting stronger everyday. It wants to rip and tear them (the pretenders) apart. It stalks around inside of him, snarling and clawing at the walls of its prison, which are growing weaker and weaker with each echoing sound and harsh swipe. One day it will get free, one day it will succeed in carrying it's rage out and one day they'll finally know just what the cost of their words and actions are. One day it will… And he won't stop it. No, he'll relish in it. (Because it (the monster) is him, and that's what monsters do.)
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…I've felt the hate rise up in me…
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I don't... really know what to say to this. So I'll just say that I'm probably going to do a second part from the 'monsters' POV. In the mean time, reviews are nice.
;3
~TMTMFD