This is a story. Fiction. Fable. Words on a page, typed out by a hand. Words form sentences. Sentences make paragraphs. Paragraphs pieced together like an intricate puzzle, making a story. This story is about a pony. A shy, friendly pony. A pony named Marsh Mellow.
She has demons.
Demons are not creatures with red skin and pointy horns. They are things inside us, that shape us. Pain. Greed. Laziness. Lust. Vanity. Selfishness. Jealousy. The list goes on. We all have demons. Even the most kind and benevolent have festering demons deep inside them.
And Fear. The most powerful demon. Fear will always find you. You can not run away from it. You can't hide from it. Fear is always there, twisting your thoughts. But fear can be controlled. To do so, you must not feed it. You must not let it control you. Most can do this. They have the power to control their fear.
But some cannot. Their minds are sick and weak, letting fear seep in through the cracks. They lose sight of the light, and drown in darkness.
Most call these ones Insane. They say that they can't be cured. That they have succumbed to the demons. That they do not fight anymore. They have given up.
But the truth is, these lost ones are always fighting their demons. Every day.
Marsh Mellow fights her demons in the dark recesses of her mind every minute.
Marsh Mellow is not real.
But her demons are.
