Drip. Drop. It’s raining, but not outside. This rain is not clear. It’s cold to feel but warm to touch. The feeling is lower. The feeling of rain drippin, running, leaking. The monster spoke with me, talked with me, ordered me around today, as it does every day. He's very persuasive. I didn't let him see my fear. I don't believe I was scared. No fear to even be seen. He got the best of me though. He can talk me into a lot of things. He tends to lose his anger with me a lot of the time too and the fire ignites in his eyes, the glare on his face shines bright against the light. He lets go of control and bites me, sinks its sharpness deep into my skin, my leg, my vein, my blood. Now this is the feeling of the rain dripping, running, leaking. The rain drips freely down my leg and into my sock. It's cold running down, but when I wipe it away with my hand, it's warm. I hide under the covers to escape all light. The monster likes the dark. It feels as if its sharp teeth are still sinking, gnawing, digging deeper, but when I look down, he's not there. He leaves me with that feeling. The feeling lasts for a long time, keeping me awake. Maybe because the rain never stops, and the scary thing is, the monster and I are very good friends. I like him. Why shouldn't I? He makes me feel better, stronger, more alive. Good enough to keep me motivated. I can tell him anything and he'll listen. He loves the taste of my emotions. I miss him when he's not around. I crave his touch, his bite, his presence.