There is a faceless monster that lives in my house. He is not like every other monster. He doesn't haunt me, or scare me. Rather he makes me hate him. The faceless monster in my house eats all my food and leaves a mess. A mess that I am forced to clean. The monster never really does much but everything it does it does because it thinks it's better than me.
This monster doesn't just terrorize me he attacks my mum and my dad. Though he tries to act like a victim to my dad, my dad sees pass him. We all hate him- that faceless monster. He is a deadbeat who feeds of our anger and our food.
I hate that faceless monster so much, but I can never rid myself of him. He has lived with me for sixteen years and with my mum and dad for eighteen. He makes me hate the person who gave birth to him (though I never really could). He makes me forget every time I've tried to be nice, some of the good times we've had and he makes me hate him, through it all he's eyes still tinkle and I'm sure he loves it.
He's smart but more on a sub-concussions level. He could barely survive without us. I hate this faceless monster so much I wish I could kill him. I wish my mum would let me drive a knife through his chest- but she won't. Not because she doesn't want him died as well- because she does- but because that faceless monster has a room in my house.
That faceless monster lives with us- though we wish it wouldn't. Worst part of it all is I use to love the faceless monster. Way back when it had a face. When I knew and looked up to the person in that face. But now that person is gone and that is left is that thing that'll drain us dry.
But we can't kill because my mum and dad both used to love that face as well. And though we know that the person from the face is gone the faceless monster still has that face. The faceless monster still talks in his voice. And sometimes through the evil tinkle in the faceless monster's eyes I can see him in there, I can see him breaking, and crying. He's trying to get out. But his demons have long since consumed him.
The faceless monster in my house has a room. He lives with us, he always has. He was hiding under the face's skin waiting to take over. The faceless monster stole him away from us, in the dark of night the monster crept in and took what was never his, my brother.
The faceless monster still looks like him. So on the day I killed the monster that looked like my brother I cried; cried for the boy who lost the war against his demons, cried for the faceless boy.