We are the monsters from the fairy tales; we’re supposed to be the bad guys. The ones that hide in your closet and sneak under your bed. We were the monsters you imagined when you were six. Ten years later and you got smarter. You figured out there were no such thing as monsters. And in a physical sense, you’re right. We just took a different shape. One you can’t conjure. We are just voices without bodies. We are the monsters that tell you that you’re worthless or ugly. We’re the reason you never go out. We’re in your head. Some of us are louder than others. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. We’re only as loud as you allow us to be.