MOCKING- 1st short story​

It isn’t the laughter in the room that mocks you…nor the fingers pointed at you. Not the looks, not the glares. No, what mocks you is far more sinister. It is a deeper kind of monster. They don’t know that his monster exists. Not until it is too late. For whom though no one ever knows until the end. 

The monster lives inside of us, if we let them. They point out all of the mistakes we have made when we try to rest at night. It points out all of the imperfections we see when we look into the mirror. It plays on repeat the laughter. It plays on repeating the words. Shows us the fingers. But soon, it isn’t their fingers we see… but our own. 

The mocking gets louder and louder. The scenes more and more ugly. We become more and more ugly in the mirror. We resent ourselves. We start mocking ourselves. This is the danger of said monster. This monster that lurks deep inside out subconscious mind. This monster makes it feel like everything is our fault. Or their fault. It is good at finding a culprit. Anyone but the monster itself. 

The issue with this monster is…whom ever he chooses is the culprit will be the victim. In life or death it matters not. Weather you die or they die, it matters not. Because the mocking has to stop. The laughter, the pointed fingers, the ugly image in the mirror has to be shut off. The film needs to be cut. And the monster shows you how. But in the end… even in the very end… the mocking doesn’t stop. It only stops if you are strong enough to tell the monster off.

It only dies, if you stand up for yourself, no more mocking laughter, no more repeating films inside your mind. 

Once in a while the monster tries to come back. 

To peek, to break you. 

To make you hate yourself…or them. For the monster doesn’t care as long as hate is involved. It doesn’t care as long as pain is involved. The monster fake helps you shut the mocking up. Actually making the mocking louder. 

In secret, if you let him, he will turn everything inside out and lull you into a false sense of security and you will never know what hit you…. and nor will anyone else. But one day you will lie in the cold cold ground and know that the time you spent listening to the monster you spent being mocked by it. 

I used to write more when I was a kid… I loved  writing about darkness and lightness alike. I don’t know why I stopped. However now that I am back at it again I would love your opinion 🙂 

– Alisa 

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