My Sickness

Under my shirt... Over my heart... It's spreading. It's been there for years, as long as I can remember, but it's never grown like this before. It's spreading faster and faster by the day, it seems, and it scares me. It angers me. It frustrates me, because I don't know what it is, and I don't know what's causing it. Why me? Why am I cursed with this? This... sickness? Why, dammit, why?

No one can find out. I've never taken my shirt off in front of anyone before... and never will I. I can't trust people. They cannot know my secret. They can't see this. They'd be scared, probably moreso than I already am. They already hate me, but... maybe they'd pity me somehow. Pity me for this cursed mark, whatever it means, and... I would hate that. HATE! I already hate, and it's growing by the day, just like the mark...

I hate everyone. They are all below me. I am GREATER than them all. They are NOTHING compared to me, like bugs compared to a god. They are pathetic and weak, while I am strong, powerful, dominant. I see them staring at me, admiring me, fearing me... Their eyes are always watching me, and it drives me mad.

Maybe my madness is driving the curse to spread faster, or maybe it's the curse which drives my madness. I do not know, but I DO know that I hate everyone, and wish they would all go away. I wish they'd leave me alone. I may be like a god to their bugs, but they don't deserve the honor of my presence. Leave me alone...

Looking at it, it scares me again. It's so red, like blood, but deeper... darker. It's frightening. Horrifying. Chills me to my core, but somewhere... deep down... I think I like it. It fuels my dark emotions, and I greatly enjoy those feelings. I enjoy the hate, the rage, and somehow, even the fear. I don't understand, but for some reason, I feel it is true.

My mark is my curse, but also... it may be my blessing...