Every once and a while he licked the paintbrush the corrosive taste of black ink pulsing through his mouth and staining his tongue black. Black as night, blacker than the sky on that night that night when the moon hid keeping him from view blanketing his screams. The night when the moon stopped shining in his world forever. I deserve this, he told me that. I am a monster a demon. I killed him I killed him. I am a monster I killed him and my mother. He moved the paintbrush up to his closed eyes, moving it around. Just like the eyeliner I used to wear, he thought. Black ink hiding bright piercing green eyes, eyes hidden from the world.