the monster within

It was uncontrolled.


It lashed out at random, attacking haphazardly.

A misunderstood glance or a comment taken out of context could cause it to flare.

Bags of chips thrown, doors slammed, obscenities flooded the room.


A small, orange pill taken before bedtime put the monster in the cage.

It was identified.

It was locked up.

It was contained.

Then I started to wean.

The cage began to rattle.

But I continued to taper.

The lock fell off and shattered and the gate creaked open slowly.

My first day without any armor against the monster left me shaken.

I doubted myself.

That was his doorway.

I willed myself not to unleash the devil on anyone, but he was out of his cage ready to attack.

I fought this ogre.

My brain vibrated with each heavy footstep as he paced behind my eyes.

My head throbbed from the beatings my cerebrum was taking as he tried to assault the innocent.

My finger nails found the back of my neck and gripped tightly, puncturing my flesh.

Trying to release this beast if just a little.

Attempting to give him an inch in hopes that he would not take the mile.

The blood and tears did not work.

He was free and he was coming out.

Unless I went back.

This week’s prompt asked us to write about the first time I _____-ed after/since _____-ing.

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