Not to make anyone feel bad but we all including me have killed what we desire. Anyways as i was saying we all have killed the beauty in ourself’s, not outside but inside we are the murders of the future and of happiness we have created a hell that no one controls. I know that this is long but it is an idea of a story first off and my feed back. English Standard Version For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light. We all create a reputation that starts out so sweet all of us do it, then as we grow we become more evil and demonic. New Living Translation For all that is secret will eventually be brought into the open, and everything that is concealed will be brought to light and made known to all. But we all torture our selfs and our peers because we are ugly beasts under our beautiful masks that we individually created. Have you herd the saying “you can be no one else in the world but you, everyone else is taken”? Well this saying applies to it, yes we are all different but we are all monsters who take our level of scariness different levels than the others. society is our enemies, we are all different monsters.
We try to run away from our deepest fears and “monsters” when really we are the monsters, we are trying to run away from our selfs. I think that we hide from our shadows when really they ARE attached to us. I personally think it was wonderful, I do agree that we do only see black not gray. I loved the story a couple of people that have left comments said that it is not that good. It’s simply too late- we are a part of the darkness. Once it’s pulled our torsos close tight to its own we don’t have option of pulling on a yellow dress or slipping into a comfy pair of blue socks. Darkness moving at something akin to the speed of light turns all our external and internal colors to its own favorite colors the very moment we step into its spindly, bony held-out arms, whether we like it or not. Switch off your bedroom light, though, or hide inside your closet with the door closed, all the while clutching onto the book, and it will become immediately apparent to you that the book is no longer scarlet but, in fact, gray. You can spill blue things and black things and smear food on it, but, regardless, the book is red. 'All things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do' (Hebrews 4:13 comp. Our grayscale faces are as blank as that of Slenderman’s, our hearts as black as a killer’s, and there’s not a thing that we can do to change this. In the darkness we are strangers to ourselves, gray-skinned, white-eyed and black-haired demons rather than the usual familiar streaks of color that we see in a lighted mirror.
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