Dear Diary
I can't breathe.
The shadow is becoming heavier and heavier and I have no more strength to keep it at bay.
I have once again brought my diary to my recently bumped up bi-weekly session. Mary wanted me to have it as a support system and I although I hate to admit it, it's working. The only problem is when I walk out of here I no longer feel that safety.
After everything happened last week, Brian knocking on my bathroom door, me screaming bloody murder as the demon came closer and closer to my naked form, my father's voice interrupting it all, shouting out the mantra I have been conditioned into focusing on that no longer helps, it was all too much for me. Dad told Brian to leave thinking maybe he was causing it, but he had no idea it was all in my head.