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A week after I was born I was named Grey. Until then I'd simply been myself, I'd had no need for others to know me. I hadn't known them. I didn't want to know anyone.
I am a demon. If people didn't always say such, I would still have known it to be so. Demons do not dream, they do not regret. They are made not born, although I was born when I was made. There were other demons being made where I came from. Most of them still looked like demons when they were born. They were killed. It was a waste; they were my siblings. You have to word such things differently when you speak of them, of course. Why I bother to think of how to reword the demon pit I do not know. No one is willing to listen, and I am unwilling to speak. It is a reasonable exchange.
I know everyone. I cannot help but do so, for their Voices of their minds speak to me even when they do not. I try to armor my mind, but no glass is truly bullet proof. Still their Voices come. I would kill them. Most certainly I would and I am quite good at it, it was what I was trained from birth to do. Yes, many people would be dead, but they would kill me too. Any demon understands self-preservation.
Animals are like demons too. They are far more experienced, of course. No one will spirit them away on demon charges. The doctors in the place I came from told us we were not human and should remember it. We were part animal, and eventually the animal part of us would kill the human. I am my animal side. The human was already beaten before I was made. It stares out through my eyes in the mirror and makes all my expressions seem ill intentioned. The human tried to kill me, once. I hadn't even noticed it had control. I was lucky to stop it.
It is impossible to blend in and act human. I simply never learned how. I wasn't meant to live-I'd been created to kill. The demon, the animal that is I can only mimic humanity. Not enough to make me normal, to have allies. Demons don't do well with humans. I had a friend long ago but I ignore her now. She doesn't exist for me because she suggested I let the human side live.
But the human is what makes me evil, a demon.
People have called me reclusive. I cut myself off from the reality that is so harsh. Perhaps I am mad but I honestly don't care.
Four months ago I was discharged from my training in the building where I came from. I had unintentionally begun a mutiny by telling what I knew of the Voices the doctors had. I didn't care. It gave me the chance to hate my creators aloud, for everywhere I would travel my reputation as a demon scrambled ahead of me. I moved frequently. I sympathize with the aliens who have to suffer only because they look different. Somewhat like the demons that were still demons on the outside, only aliens are not inherently evil. Unfortunately they do not feel the same towards me but I am used to being treated as an agent of the darker side.
Bright light is uncomfortable to me but I do not say painful. I feel no pain. I am incapable of such an emotion. I do not venture into daylight- it leaves me wide open for the attacks of a million Voices. I remain indoors during the day hours. I learned a lot about computers in a very short time. I also watched movies and books from as long ago as 1960. They were all legally banned. I did not care. The vision of the future people had a long time ago was very twisted. It is amusing.
In one month I will be sixteen. By that time I have sworn to become a thorn in my creators' sides.
