I always knew there was something wrong with me. Something just a little bit off; not quite right.
I have this... addiction that started when I was younger and I stumbled across my mother's back massager. That wonderful, magical tool became my new best friend. Until that need stopped being satisfied.
It's uncontrollable, untamed, and completely unstoppable. So I stopped trying to fight it and learned to embrace it.
I was perfectly happy with my lonely little life of destruction until three men showed up and showed me a whole new world.
But this isn't a fairy-tale and there is no flying carpet.
My mother always told me I was going to hell. Turns out, she was right.
They're not even human; they say I'm not either.
