The beasts are after me again, their long dark claws tearing at my sanity until I scream blue murder in their general direction and they fall silent for a short while. They have left me alone for the better part of 25 years; I was quite sure I had killed them back then, my young troubled frame fighting them off at every turn until finally, it seemed, I had won......until now.
Too much turmoil lurking under my skin, I suppose. The black creatures have sensitive ears, that much I remember; they were always listening for the shouts of agonized angst from within my head; licking their lascivious lips at my pain. So they have found me again, the creatures of calamity, monsters of misery.
I don't know where my soldiers have gone. They went AWOL years ago when they no longer felt they were needed. I do battle against my demons with what little ammunition I can find; but they're gathering strength and know I am worn and feeble, the perfect target for starvacious predators.
Vigilance is necessary with every breath; constantly I monitor the darkness that threatens to overtake my every move. If words could kill I would write an artillery of pages aimed at the hearts of my silent stalkers; shoot letters of rage into their black horrid eyes; fell them until they lay dead and bleeding amongst the vowels and the consonants, of my life.