Dear Diary,
Right where my heart is, slightly to the left of my chest, I feel a cold hand burning, squeezing, clawing. It aches, and I'm terrorised. A ghostly hand with twisted fingers, belonging to some kind of demon that followed me from the very beginning of my crude existence.
The demon wraps it's other hand around my left arm, making it tremble, making it desperate, making it reach for a piece of reality, my fingernails digging in my palm.
I can't really calm down, my eyes keep unfocusing, and I can almost taste dust on my tongue.
God damn me, maybe I need saving.