The Monster

The cluster of emotions I have is like a monster that lives inside a wonderland that is called my mind. It's a middle, an in between, a Neverland, a place unimaginable. It's utterly frightening and brings out my xenophobia. It makes me feel like a tiny woodland creature running from that gargantuan being. The monster has six heads, all different facial structures and expressions. One has shining blue eyes and sparkling white grin: joy. Joy invites me and seduces me with a warm hug. The second head has feeble and wears eyes, filled with an ocean of tears. It's scared to touch me and reach out to me and indicates it wants nothing to do with anyone. The corners of their mouth pills downward dramatically to a frown: sorrow. Another head has hostile red eyes, telling me to stay clear and not to take another step forward; to run. Their eyebrows are scrunched, along with their nose. They have fangs, dripping with blood sloppily out of their mouth: anger. The fourth head has closed eyes and an open mouth. Their skin is pale blue and death-like. You can try and wake it up all you want with loud noises and cold water, it'll still be frozen at that same expression: exhaustion. The fifth head has wide pupils as big as plates, raised eyebrows, and wrinkles. You can tell from the eyes that tension is present. They're upset. It's also present in their mouth, frozen and unable to speak: anxiety. And the last face seems really content with their life. The face is relaxed and has a sense of seclusion: tranquility. Sometimes, the child inside me plays with this creature when it's happy and peaceful and helps him when he's sad or anxious. During those times, he is no more than the size of a three month old puppy. But when he becomes angry, he grows fifty time larger than I and unintentionally tries to attack me. Sometime he succeeds; other times he fails. That's why I run from this creature most of the time because I am permanent this emotion: fearful.