A stickiness

She often felt like she was possessed by a foul, sticky thing. It clung to her core with no intention of leaving. She felt it oozing throughout her limbs. Cold. Wet.
She imagined it to be the ugliest thing she would ever behold. A creature of pure evil, of darkness. With looks so unbelievably horrendous it would turn many a man blind and scarred.

It coaxed her into the dark with its raspy, croaky voice, willing her into transgression. 'Go on, my dear. Just a little further.' She tried to ignore its calls, but it was a vain effort. Whenever calamity befell her, it struck hard, sensing her vulnerability. It fed off of it, affirming every negative emotion she had ever felt. It was deceiving, this cold thing.

Yet she had grown used to this foul thing that lived inside of her. In times of
loneliness it was her only companion, yet not a true one, because it only wished her downfall, preferably by its own claws. In times of clarity she recognized it for what it really was. The bane of her existence, her true enemy.

So she fought against it with all her might.
'I am better than you,' she would think. Yet everytime the thought formed, she felt the stickiness inside of her stirring with laughter, causing her to wonder if she really was strong enough.