The darkness surrounds me, comfortable in the space of my room.
It's the shadows that worry me.
I can see them in the darkness, the shadows that lurk just outside of your conscious. That you know are there, but can never prove it to yourself. I can hear their silent whispers to one another, contemplating my fate.
Knife.
Rope.
Pills.
Gun.
Starvation.
Each is as terrifying as the one before.
They whisper why, too.
You're not good enough.
You'll never be perfect.
You don't deserve to live.
They don't want you.
You don't deserve death.
They come closer, the shadows. I can see them in the faint light of my alarm clock.
Faceless, nameless, shapeless. They are everywhere and nowhere all at once.
And I'm scared now because the darkness is fading in the early morning light streaming in through my window, the night coming to a close.
The darkness disappears.
The shadows do not.
They are the last thing I ever see.

WE ARE ALWAYS HERE.
ALWAYS WATCHING.
ALWAYS LISTENING.
WE KNOW YOUR LOWEST MOMENTS. WE ARE YOUR DARKEST FEARS.
AND WE WILL NEVER LEAVE.