i n d i g o {d i s t r i c t t e n} f i n

The night is the time when all of my fears come to life in front of me, when sleep brings them to my door, and barges straight through the door in front of me. Not the flimsy locks on the door prevent them entry, not the walls that stop the elements from penetrating inside the home. Not nothing. NOTHING! Nothing can stop the monsters that I fear from coming in. Except sleep almost never comes, and still, the monsters are all around, leaving shadows carelessly lying around. Nothing stops them from invading, not even the tears rolling slowly down my cheeks, or the shaking of my head, whispering quietly, 'Don't come nearer, please. PLEASE! Don't hurt me, please.' Not even the hands that are held out in front of me, shielding me from anything that wants to come nearer. Still, the monsters throw the shards of ice within my heart from a distance, and the tears stream down my face, my eyes stinging like nothing else, from insomnia, and the fucking tears now going drip, drip, drip, upon the floor. And with that, the colour of my eyes go with it, showing that darkness of my soul for all to see. I am broken by the monsters of within, and of reality.

I wander around inside the day, when all my thoughts and my wishes are of a silent night, with sleep involved. And I am nothing more than a mindless slave to my actions. And the flitting shadows of the monsters that only I see are always taking up my mind. And also the monsters that everyone can see. And they are the ones who are apparently here to care about me. Not anyone is around for me to talk to, to allow them to comfort me. They only cause the tears to stream harder down my face, only cause the cries inside my throat to echo louder, into a scream. And all the while, they chant together, both of them. 'Leave our daughter, you demons. Expel yourself from her soul. Begone!' And the cuts they inflict, they say they'll help, sting, making me cry out more, and they to chant, harder, faster. Until the night, and then the monsters take hold, and I scream and scream as they get nearer, closer. And they don't come back and help to fight. They merely lock me in, into a prison of fear.

It's normally a strange moment, when I do sleep. The silence that sleeping normally brings isn't there, when I wake. For the nightmares that are always there greet me awake, and just stay haunting the darkness. It's unnerving to see Death staring you in the eye, the call out frozen within my throat. And then, He's gone, and I'm left for the scream to thaw out of my throat. And sometimes, if I'm lucky, I get a call through the door, from Dad, 'Ripred's punishing you, and you have damned the whole family for your sins.' And again, the twang of hate is within those words, the fear of being sent straight to hell. And they hate me, hate that I cannot sleep, or see all of the monsters. They are never there. And all I have for comfort is not parents, not nothing. The only comfort is the hair that sticks to my cheeks, although it's darker than the night that I lie awake in, and wraps me up. Hair that's so long, longer than is right, for Momma is scared that the hair is possessed. And that it could start dancing the tango on the floor. She doesn't want to hurt me, to cut me, to sacrifice the blood that'll save my soul. But she has to, otherwise Dad will hurt her. And no one wants that.

And when the light comes, I am the monster. No longer is are my eyes normal, it's been 3 years since then. The blood is drawn to it, probably from the overuse of them. Black and red are the two most common colours there. The burst vessels in my eyes spreading slowly across them, like the blood on the sacrificial tile. The black beneath my skin identical to the soul I believe lies inside. And red litters other parts upon my body, the cuts that seep with even the lightest touch, the sores upon my cheeks from the water permanently upon them. The fists long since pounded into the wall, trying to let me flee, away from the monsters within the walls that I was sealed. Sealed in with the nightmares that always make me scream and hurt myself to get away. And it still doesn't fucking work! I want just a relief from everything, or even to feel the rope around my throat. All to get the eternal silence inside my mind. And who knows if even the stopping of a heart would prevent the stabbing of fear inside my mind. The room just leaves me pale, or the sun just avoids me. I wouldn't blame it, I really wouldn't. Everything is fucking scared of me, 'cept the demons that torment me. And the ribs that hang out aren't my fault, just the demon starving me. Or my father trying to starve it out. There isn't much difference either way really. Ribs hanging out is still being too thin, no matter the way that you look at it.

Although, even if I wanted to fight father, to tell him to leave me the fuck alone, I couldn't. I could never stand up to him before, and most definitely not now. Not since he's shown his dominance over me, over everyone. And when he said what he wanted to do, I just said yes. Without a second thought, I agreed to allow him to torture me, to redeem my soul and his. But all it was, and all it ever was, was the anger that I was never the boy he wanted me to be, I was a girl, a damaged thing, merely just a possession, not a person. And like a possession he treats me. Like a doll that was his to destroy, to be a plaything that he could show the devotion to Ripred. But he's a monster, as much as those that torment me in every moment in my life in the past 3 years. Three years since I became the home for the feared and legends. Father says he loves Mother and I, but I'm pretty sure that this isn't love. Love is treating someone nice, no matter how you feel. And he doesn't do that. He just wants to hurt us, no matter what we've done, or what he's done. The only reason he ever gives is 'Women bought the hate of the world down on all of the men. And Ripred demands that women must pay for their sins. And some,' staring at me, 'are more sinned than others.'  And in the mornings after the night before, I'm set to agree. And then, in those mornings, when my eyes are blind with the fear, and my knees are the protection, rocking forward and back, always moving, so they can't hit me, and just some company needed to keep me sane. Those are the times when I am one of the sinned, no matter how hard I pray.

Before everything started, before the nights seemed ready to rip sense from my soul, I was only scared of one thing; father. He was the one where the nightmares first reigned within, the fear of him hurting me, or mother a lot. And he kept me awake at night, the fear of a vision from Ripred, one where he had to pledge his allegiance by killing us both, and relieving the sins of our gender. It's not that unusual as it may sound like, we've had that bullshit before. And I literally couldn't sleep, no matter how hard I tried, my heart beating like a stampede of cattle on a ranch. And never slowing until the morning, And lack of sleep builds and builds. And then the demons start to appear, and father finds out. And the torture of 'freeing my soul' began, and the blood started running. In the end, it's a dictator of a father, dictated by a Father.