I Keep Looking over my Shoulder for Monsters
I keep looking over my shoulder for monsters. Today, for instance. I was walking down Kenwood Road and I thought someone was following me, so I looked. There was no one there, of course. No one ever is. This is only in my head. I explain this to many people who see me look over my shoulder an unfathomable amount of times, and then they try to explain to me the definition of "crazy" or "weird".
They're the people I shut out from my life, from my head. As always, they seem to creep their way back in, and I'm stuck looking over my shoulder for them as well. On top of the monsters, the people who've abandoned me in my time of weakness and utter darkness, there's the fact that no one will ever help me. Not even my neighbors will try to save me from myself, from my head.
Still, I don't know what to think. When school begins, what will they say? When I look over my shoulder for a three eyed monster that really isn't there (remember, it only exists in my head), there will be someone who asks why. I'll tell them, of course. There's no quick way to lie, there's no escape from a direct question. I guess, when I think about it, there could be one certain person (who is yet to be named) that shares my same fear. The same fear that keeps me up at night, waiting with my Louisville bat.
But that fear is only one person, even though I look over my shoulder for monsters.
The only monster, fear, killer, whatever you want to call it, is me.