I look in my mirror every morning, searching through the ocean ocean of faces, searching for my own amongst them. I can't find it amid the dark shades of black and crimson. I can feel it pulling, tugging me in the way I should go. That shred of memory of who I used to be. Just when I think I almost have it, it runs. I can hear it's sharp piercing shreiks, as it runs from the monster I've now become. I long for those sweet, nieve, carefree days when I could actually be happy. Now all I'm left with is a memory and an empty hole where my heart used to be.