For the average teenage girl, college is one of the easiest periods in their lives. Study the subjects that you have always aspired to extend your knowledge in, have fun with friends and flirt with boys. As for me, only one of those has been undergoing in the last year of my life. When perceiving the life of the normal 17 year old girl, what you'd see is a journey of giggles and harmless fun; maybe a little bit of falling into intoxication and falling for the wrong sort of boys- soon after crying as they break their poor little weak heart. You'd see hours upon end of hopeless studying in their room, flooded by endless seas of papers until their immediately distracted by a ring of their mobile and minutes later, they're not the only one occupying the bed. In my life, it is rare any of that happens. The last time I cried over a male was when I was 13, sat alone upstairs in my bedroom as I ausculate over my parents arguing below me. The studying part for me, mostly, is simple. Step outside my door and let the work begin.

Ever since I was a young girl at the mere age of fourteen, I felt at home with my fingers clutching a camera- like my life depended on it and its astonishing capability to create master pieces from the cruel world surrounding us. Studying it here at one of the most gorgeous colleges in the area was pure perfection. Only when I have the companionship of my Canon 60D do I truly feel as though I can face this troublesome world head on- despite the demons chasing me around these concrete walls. With my camera, I can take an image of them; treasure it forever until I realize what a burden it holds upon my shoulders, and then, it can be destroyed from my life in a simple ignition of a lighter. However, reality was never going to be that simple for me. You see, demons can be some of the most nonpareil things in your life (friends, family and lovers) and for me it was all three.

Close your eyes. Imagine a demon. What do you see? Some fantasy spirit-like creature that the media has brainwashed you into thinking posses a somewhat disfigured body and the capability to haunt your lives and physically create torturous mayhem? To understand this writing, you must abolish that idea of a demon from your minds, for a demon is solely an evil passion or influence, and the first thing that comes to mind when I imagine my demon is her. The woman I share such passion with it has became an evil influence on my mind, causing me to begin craving her taste, her lips and her caress. Craving the way she looks into my eyes with those evil, demotic brown orbs of her own which behold the power to entrance any careless victim into reaching inside ones ribcage and retrieving their beating heart to only be stomped upon by the toe of killer seductive heels- a power I am no longer immune to. You are clueless to whom I am talking about presently, but the identity of this succubus-like goddess wont remain oblivious to you for much longer.