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Tomorrow. (Jade's Letter.) (Mature and Graphic.) (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
I took my main character in my romance and decided to use her character to write a completly spearate piece. She's got a drug problem in the novel, and this is a letter to someone. I'm not sure who, maybe herself.

Ten months. That’s all it took. Ten short months to wipe away any strength I ever had, the strength of a lion, and the pride to go with it. In these 40 weeks, a demon has stolen my soul, now vacant, dull, and numb. I don’t blame him, it was easy. I didn’t put up the valiant fight that I thought I was. No, that was all an illusion, set up to fool only myself. Because when I was locked away in my cave of a room with him, it was us against the world. You can only see the game he’s playing from the outside. Because when you’re at his side, playing just as sick of a game, the rules are different. What he really did was slice me open and let the life spill out. Before I could even realize I was bleeding, I had nothing left. This very moment, I’m empty, writing this. Almost empty I guess, cause here I am, writing this.

So tonight I sit, my final night spent with the demon on my back. Tomorrow, I’ll set him down, he doesn’t get to be carried around so easily anymore. He’s going to be angry, fight back. He’s going to do everything in his ever persuasive power to regain control. But I’m taking that back. I’m taking everything back. My heart, my passion, my fire. It’s going to take some getting used to, breaking his hold. He’s been there damn near every night for the past ten months. Gently caressing my face, telling me he would take care of everything. Whispering in my ear that as long as I had him, I didn’t need anyone or anything. I didn’t need my family, my friends. I didn’t need to find solace in my writing the way I used to, because he became that solace. He’d wrap his arms around me and send me off to sleep, leaving me to wake up like a zombie, wishing I had more time to spend with him. I’ll miss that warm, enveloping touch. But I’m better off without it. Maybe if I tell myself that enough, I’ll start to believe it, Maybe then, giving it up won’t be a raging war between what I want and what I need.

But what I want will kill me, soon enough. I know that. Did it deter me? Of course not. Because once he sauntered through my door, the euphoria of his presence was everything to me. You don’t think about losing everything, even your life, with a friend like him. The later doesn’t matter, because he makes you feel things that you never knew were possible. All you want is more, regardless of the aftermath.

And I do want more, I’ll admit that. But I’ve become aware of the aftermath, and I don’t want it. I fear it, I detest it, I want to fight it. Fight him. I’m going to become the bigger monster, the stronger demon. So, no, I’m not setting him down. I’m ripping him off my back, slamming him down. Cracking him, breaking him, kicking him while he’s down, and burying him deep down into the depths of my past. Encasing him in concrete that’s as strong as my mind. I’m taking myself off of autopilot, grabbing the reins, taking back the control that slipped out from under me while the wool was over my eyes. I’m not an idiot, not anymore, anyway.

Tomorrow. That word has never held more meaning to me than it does right now. It used to mean just what it implies, the next day. Tonight, right now, it means life, change, and a chance.


Senior Member
I re-read this thrice and stayed up past my bed-time, so I'm a little slow right now.

But I really liked the piece. You personify a drug to show how it took away the humanity of your character, an effective parallel that works wonderfully. I like the imagery you provided: "...strength of a lion... a demon has stolen my soul...my final night with the demon on my back...". I can also appreciate the style, you separated your paragraphs well and the variations of your sentence flow and structure were, for me, a plus.

No complaints. Good job! :congratulatory:

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