The darkness fell over my mind when my thoughts switched from childhood moments to adult fears. It took corruption over me and stirred a rage that I could not tame or control. I was living in a world of fear of when I would eventually explode.
The world had changed in my mind and I was still a fearful child. I wondered the cold concrete streets of my brain in the city of the frontal lobe. I encountered the horrid sexual deviant corner filled with kind women who became an idol of my sexual desire and my mind had transformed them into prostitutes craving for a man's affection.
I strolled into the next city over in which I witnessed a man killing another man in cold blood, merely over a disagreement. I knew it as one of my many violent fantasies and that man, whoever he was in the past, was not the only I dreamed to kill. There were many. Some had the faces of my father, or step-father for that matter. Some were women, children and I even thought of killing a pet or two.
Dressed in my tattered clothing, I continued to walk the streets of the city called my brain. The Ego once ran as mayor, but disappeared due to my alter ego. This city ran into the ground once he left. Rage, sexual deviants and greed corrupted the streets. Versions of myself roamed in giant buildings of my city mind and casted judgement on those that I met with everyday.
The super-ego, an armed enforcer of the law of my mind, had been crushed many years ago due to the contract I sighed with the false personalities I created. These personalities took over my mind and used it for whatever they wanted. I was never in control over my mind, but at least, in the past, it was in working order. It was clean, kind and gentle. Now, I see the corruption of my youth given to the hands of imagined characters and inner demons that kept me imprisoned in my world.
The worst of them all was the first, the original seed that began in my early teens. He convinced me that I was weak and stupid. He told me that I could not stand up to those around me and slapped me around when I did not do what he wanted me to do. There was a time that I thought of him as a savior, a man that I wanted to become, but the feeling in my gut told me he was much more horrible than that. He wasn't like the other personalities I created. He wasn't one of the voice I gave power to that took care of me. He was a demon. A replica of me. He sounded like me and used gestures like me, but he wasn't me. He only wanted me to be his slave. He could do away with the others, super-ego, ego and possibly the id, but he could not rid the world of me. He could not consume me like the others. He needed me to survive and instead of trying to get rid of me, he trapped me in the darkest corner of my mind.
This alter ego sat at the tallest tower in my mind. In the top floor sat his throne made from the misery I suffered throughout the years. He wore my hat and shades. He acted like an evil twin of myself, a mirrored reflection. Many of my own memories and characters called him The Night Author, a name that he took on to claim for himself. This prince of pride was out for blood and was abusing my will to believe that I was nothing.
The name and logo was designed for something. I wanted to stand for something. He promised me that I could be someone if I did what he told me to do. My name was ruined and I sat in the pit of darkness. This creature ... This demon, only wanted me to see destruction in my own mind. His power came from my boundless rage, but without my rage anymore, he consumed all that I had left in my brain. My memories and imagination was his to bend to his will and as he fed off of that, the city called My Mind withered and was dying.
Someone had to make a stand. Someone had to change things. Someone had to clean up my mind. Without aid from anyone in my mind, I knew I was the only one that could change it. I knew that my mind and this demon would have to understand and fear that I was the true Night Author ... That I was the one and only king of my world.
--Night
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