I pull the blade across my skin. How much longer 'till these voices win?

I wonder how deep I will get

Until I'm another person they will forget.

Up in my room more alone than ever

I just wish I was gone forever.

Worst Christmas Ever...

Now already. Somebody please kill me or I'll do it, quite soon.
All these people are driving me crazy. Mum knows exactly that I'm not doing well at the moment and she is making such a big thing about Christmas anyways, being in a fight with my loved granny is one of them.
I just can't stand these people, this world anymore.
They are slowly killing me, supporting my inner demon.
Bye.

Can't turn back now, I'm haunted.

It's getting dark, and it's all too quiet

And I can't trust anything now.

Blurry mind, blurry soul, blurry body. 

Drop dead, gorgeous.

Murder.

Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes some getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.
It's important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there's a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there's a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. It there's a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. There exercises are necessary to achieve the proper distance.

The motive is paramount. Without a strong motive, you're sunk.

Stuff going on... Something's moving, finally.

There happened a lot. I had an appointment with my therapist on monday, she was really worried about me or whatever I would possibly do to myself because I told her this "three parts"-thing (the first thing I really told her about since a long, long time). Her first intention was to directly admit me to the hospital but I was able to talk her out of it, fortunately. So I told her I will be fine until thursday, which means today. So we had another appointment today where I told her that I never wanna be inpatient in the adult-unit again. All these grown-ups, these "old people" make me so afraid. They make me think that I might never be able to make it out of this. When I see them I wonder, why they aren't happy now, why they don't live a fulfilled life. And if they didn't make it until now, how should I ever be able to do so? So then her idea was that she was gonna ask the senior doctor of the adolescent psychiatry if they would take me even though I am at least a little bit to old for the "young section". But because they already know me, she was hoping that it might work. But the senior doctor is on vacation so I need to wait 'til monday until I'll get to know anything; if I might go there or not. I told her that in no way I will go somewhere else. Either way they'll take me or I will just continue to live like that, maybe die someday through suicide, but I will never ever go to the adult section!!
And if I should be true right now, I really hope that I will be able to go there... Living makes me be afraid of life but death makes it even worse. I don't wanna die before I really started to live. So maybe this will be my last chance...

And she'll continue to smile no matter how hurt she is.

One, two, three - then you're dead.

She walks through her life as a shadow, forever feeling on the brink of death.
The look of desperation on her eyes goes unnoticed my all; she goes unnoticed by all,
But thank God because if she can't be beautiful she wants to be invisible.

The three parts.

There are three parts in me, you could say three different person.

First one is kinda like a witch, the monster, the evil voice. She got green eyes, glowing in the dark and she decides on what is going on inside my head. She decides on the hate, my thoughts about living or dying, on what I eat or not.
And this voice would do anything that is in her power to see me die. You don't deserve to be happy.  Everyone would be better off without you.  You made ways too many mistakes, no one will ever like you. Just look around, you got NO ONE!
She is always showing me possibilities to kill myself, every minute of the day, in every smallest thing you could find. Even if it was only a string to hold the straw together, maybe a tree, a stone on the wayside, just anything. And she really got powerful. She is telling me to do things, to say things that I never would. If I am mean to other people, it's mostly her. With it I don't want to apologize all the mistakes that I made but what I'm trying to say is, it's not always me. She is always in my mind, always making me do things, say things. And she will only leave me alone when I am all hers. When I stop listening to others. Or when I am finally dead.
Thereby we are getting to the other parts of me. Well, let's say: When all my mind is a 100%, then this evil voice, the witch has got 65% of me.

The second person... It looks like a real human. But more like a person standing in the fog. You can see its contours but you can't see its face, its expression. Because it doesn't have one in this case. It has no face, it is blank. It is only a shadow, the shadow of the evil voice. It believes in every word the witch is saying and it would do anything she is telling it to do because it is only a shadow. A shadow can't be powerful enough to fight such a strong person like the witch. But the shadow learned to life with its fate and accepts it. The life as a shadow, taking orders for others.
The shadow is always there for others, even when it doesn't feel good or strong. Even when it feels like the world is crashing. It is always there. Because it isn't oblivious of its needs.
It is only waiting for orders from the evil voice. The voice knows exactly how much pain the shadow feels when she is putting it into such a situation. But this is what she wants. She wants the shadow to feel pain, she wants the shadow to completely forget about itself.
When the shadow is thinking about telling someone about its feelings, the witch starts to shout at it. You are NOT allowed to tell anyone, you don't deserve this, you are a nobody, so shut your ugly mouth, go away, go somewhere where no one will ever find you and die! Nobody should know how much power I really have over you, nobody should know that you are slowly becoming me, you are becoming the evil voice. 
This shadow is about 25%, makes a total of 90% by now. But there is still the third part.

The third part...is the good one. The good one, she is a fairy. She looks a bit like Tinkerbell in Peter Pan. She is glowing, she is the light. Her light might not be so strong but sometimes she can make it through the darkness and starts to shine, to light up the room for some time. But the slightest blast can make her disappear for a long long time.
She believes in me, she believes in that everything is gonna be okay, that I will be happy someday. But this little fairy has to fight, a lot. Against the powerful witch, against the evil voice.
The fairy knows exactly that telling all this right know will get her and the shadow in big big trouble later but for know she is fighting to bring the story to light. The good part in me still believes in love, in happiness while the other 90% just exist of hate, anger, sorrow, self-doubt. But this side, the good side has become so weak, so small. It has become so hard for her to fight all these battles. She slowly starts to recognize that she hasn't got a chance. But something keeps her fighting, a really really small light in her heart keeps her alive. And she won't stop until the darkness has completely devour her.

This is what is inside me, the dark side has become so powerful, so strong and it is getting more and more each day. It makes me be afraid, the voice inside my head. I don't wanna die but living like this seems harder to me than to finally end it all. I am afraid that this voice will cover my whole soul and that I will become the evil voice.
I am afraid that it will be her, who will someday pull the razor too strong across my arm. That it will be her, who will someday make me walk one more step to the front when the train arrives. That it will be her, who will make me stop moving when the truck comes closer and closer.
She makes me afraid and I start to think that it would be easier if I would just let her win...

'Cause I'm broken

When I'm lonesome

And I don't feel right,

When you're gone away.

Thank you for showing me that I'm not worth being loved and liked.

Who will love a body covered with scars from careless mistakes, broken words and desperation?

No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one. No one.

The devil is real. And he is not a little red man with horns and a tail.
He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite.

Everything will be okay. NOT.

        - Life will go on, don't be sad. Life was already moving on before we knew each other.

Yeah, right. Because we didn't know each other. But once you got to know someone, they will leave marks in your life. Some are bigger and some are smaller. Some marks are so small that you don't even notice them. And some of them have the size of a tornado. They bash you into a deep hollow and you won't make it from down there on your own. But as you're falling you recognize that you don't even want to be saved. Because up there everything will be destroyed and life wouldn't be the same anymore. Life maybe wouldn't even be possible. So you just let yourself fall.

Drawing by me

I'm really asking myself "Why didn't I just end it all yet?"
Mean, I have no one who is there. My best friend left, my other really close friend left, another one did, too. My father doesn't even know I exist. My ex-boyfriend thinks I'm a crazy stupid bitch or whatever. And my mother doesn't even know that it has come this far.
I have no one and it's all my fault. There is no one who would even notice that I'm gone.
Okay there is my mum and my granny, they would and I would be sorry for them because I really do love them but they would be better off without me. Everyone would be.
It really hurts to say something like that but unfortunately it's the truth.
No one would care. And it makes me feel kinda free. Because then no one would be sad.
They could just live their lives because they wouldn't have to see me, think about that I still exist. My mum wouldn't have to be worried anymore. Life would be wonderful for them.
Seems like this is gonna be the best decision I've ever made in my whole entire life.
I hope you're all proud of me.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain. 

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die. 

Doesn't matter.

No matter what I do, what I try to think of, I think I will miss you forever.
You have always been my heart, my soul, my second self. This doesn't just "go away" because of this little conflict. And in my opinion it really was little in comparison to what we have been through. You really wanna throw it all away?
I can't.
No matter how hard I try.
It had a meaning for me when I send you this. I mean it. Forever and always.
I love you.

Sure, I don't care. This doesn't even get close to me.

I don't need any of those people in my life which are leaving right now.
I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you.
You know, there is a point in life when you realize that all those people who pretend to be there for you, who pretend to be your "really close friends", are the biggest liar on planet earth! All they want is you to tell them how amazing and loved they are. And if they have these "Oh so big problems", they want you to be there for them, you gotta tell them that everything's gonna be okay. But when you start to tell them, that it's not okay, that they fucking need help and you don't wanna hear a word about "how awesome all this loosing-weight-stuff" is, because you're currently trying to recover, you're the worst bitch they've ever met in their lives. And as soon as you might need them for some reasons, they seem to just disappear, they got no time for you. But when it finally comes to telling them about what you wanted to talk about for so long, all they say is "yeah, I can totally relate to that, I got the same thing and for me it's like this....." And finally they will say something like "Our friendship is not really workin' anymore. I'm sorry."
Oh really? Maybe because our friendship just consists of you and your problems. You're not even interested in anything about me? Maybe that might be the problem??
Don't you understand that there is more in life than just you, yourself and, oh I forgot, your fucking big ego?
And what about those friends you are really trying to help in their relationships with others? Same thing... Helping them like fucking shit and as soon as everything seems to go the right way again, for them, even though their partner is just twitting on them, not really taking them as a real, independent person, just more as a slave or a toy, they just throw you away. "They need to concentrate on their relationship again". They got no time for people like you anymore and they don't want to be friends anymore.
FUCK YOU ALL!
We'll meet again in hell, bitches!

This is what I meant when I said that I don't have friends. Nobody cares. Nobody gives a fuck.

Save me from all these thoughts!

I can't stand them no longer. They make me cry, they make me wanna scream, they make me wanna jump off a bridge. Take them away from me and free me before I'll free myself. They change life into hell, laughter into tears, nights into fear. I can't live with them no longer.

White Trash Beautiful.

There's something you should know: My heart belongs to you.
And you coulda found a better guy, I'll love you 'till the day I die.
I swear to God it's true, I'm coming home to you.

Even though I try to be so hard and act as if I'd never think of him, I do. I miss him, I miss everything about him. I miss the way he talked to me, the way he looked at me. I miss everything he ever wrote for me and I miss the way he kissed me. I just miss him!!
I wish there would be something to turn back time so I could make my mistakes undone.
I don't wanna be without him...

Not afraid.

I'm not afraid of dying. Pieces of me die all the time.

Work harder. And harder. And harder.

Infront of me are ten pretty, little pills...

I'll take one because you lied to me...
I'll take another for all the family trouble...
I'll take two more for the fat on me...
I'll take another because I hate myself...
I'll take another for all the rumors...
I'll take one for all the  nights I've cried...
Now, I'm shaking I'll take one because I need to calm down...
One left... am I beautiful now? Does this make me perfect?...
Take it...
I'm done. I'm perfect now.


I'm ready now....

This is where you see who I am.

I think that it's time to show "me"...
This is my fatness, my obese body and my fat face.

Don't be shy, you are now allowed to laugh quite loud!!
See the ugly truth!

Desire.

I personally think that this fear which you're having inside you when you're standing on the edge is rather a desire.
The desire to just let yourself fall - or to spread your wings and fly.

This is one of my drawings. Reflecting my feelings pretty good I think.

There is a storm inside my head.

So much going on at the moment.
I am not doing well... Not at all. I had a preliminary talk in a treatment center. It was so hard for me to go there, so many feelings, so many thoughts. Will they take me for serious? Am I sick enough for getting help? Do I really need help and will this be the right way of help for me? So many thoughts are wandering through my head since then. The therapist was quite nice and I had a good feeling in that way but I am not sure if I will choose this clinic in the end. I need help, I know it. I don't want to live like this anymore. Either way I choose the way of going into treatment or I'll die. I know it. I will die by suicide or my "accident". I don't want to live like this anymore, so these are my two choices. I have to choose. To live and let my illness go or to cling to it and die. Seems to be an easy decision, right? But it really isn't.
This illness, all these diseases have become part of me. They are like part of my personality, a part that has become quite big over the years. So I would have to let go what makes me the person I am right now. It's a bad, sick part of my personality but nevertheless it is a part of it! So what would you think if you got to let yourself go? To loose what spots you. It's quite hard. It would make me a nobody. It would make me look like a blank sheet of paper. All that was written on it was erased. Only the marks of what was written on it once are left. My scars. They will stay forever...
And then there are the scars that no eraser, no doctor, no medicine will ever be able to heal: The ones on my soul. And these are the ones that hurt the most. Will I ever be able to forget? To completely let go? Will it be that easy?
I don't know... The only thing I know is: If I won't change, my diseases will change me. Even more than they already did now. They will turn me into a monster, a living dead. And one day, I will be gone forever. And I will never come back.

Help.

My thoughts all the time.

Nobody.

Nobody sees me. Nobody needs me. Nobody is interested. Nobody cares. Nobody notices and nobody will cry.
Because I am a nobody. Everyone get's what he deserves.

And there are some itches only a razor can scratch.

Give me love. Make it stop. Make those voices stop. Make them stop, please.

But maybe they're right.

Maybe it's the truth.
Maybe I should let them win.
Maybe I should just leave and let them win.
Don't be a maybe!
Game over.

Fake. Jealousy. Despite. Moods. Hate.

Lost in this world.
Everyone around me seems so happy. People finding their love, their soulmate. Then there are people traveling to other countries, trying to find who they really are, starting to plan their future. People changing themselves to stay in their role.
But then there are people who are more evil. People who are talking shit behind other peoples' backs. People who are trying to get between other people. People who would do anything to destroy you and your life.
I know all of these people. And I am the person that should be destroyed. There are these people who are talking about things concerning me. And they have no idea what they are talking about. They think they know me but they don't. They don't know anything about me. How should they? I don't even know who I am. Anyway, they are talking about things concerning my illness, my mental illness. They talk about things that happen because of my illness but they say that it's my personality. These things would never be my personality, never. And I don't know what to do because everyone seems to believe them. They want to abolish me, I know it. They haven't any other reasons to say things like that.
These words hurt because I can't do anything against it. I can't tell them...

Well... that was quite confusing. Summed up in a sentence: There are people who would like to see me fall but I won't grant them their victory. It's hard for me to fight because there are so many things to fight for at the moment but I won't fall, not over these stones they have placed on my path.

Amen!

Fear

noun
- an unpleasant emotion by the threat of danger, pain or harm.


I am scared of people. I am scared of what they might talk behind my back. I'm scared they're analyzing and judging every single thing I say and do. I'd rather isolate myself, stay at home in my room all day because I can't trust people anymore. Every time I tried to open myself towards other people, I was left alone. I feel like there is no one who'd care enough to stay. I am afraid of people and their actions. That's why I am not with people, with friends. Never.

I'm done. Alone. Lost.

I need someone to save me. I need someone to tell me it's worth the fight. I need someone to be there for me. Right here.
Game over.

I'd go to hell and back for you.

Even if saving you sends me to heaven.

Totally fucked up. Finally.

And all I can think of is "Nothing hurts when you're dead."
Everything will be fine then.
So much pressure. So much pressure. I can't stand it.
I need blood, I need to see blood.
That fat fucking pig needs to bleed. She needs to fucking lose blood now that she isn't even losing weight.
Lose weight, lose blood and finally lose your life.
DIE, bitch. DIE.

What's the matter with you?
         - Nothing.

Nothing slowly clotting my arteries. Nothing slowly numbing my soul. Caught by nothing, saying nothing, nothingness becomes me. When I am nothing they will say, surprised, in the way that they are forever surprised, "But there was nothing the matter with her."

Mind-Puke in the evening. Enjoy.

Waking up in the morning gets harder every day. First thing to do: Feel your bones. Are they still there? Are they still standing out? They do? Fine. Next step: The way to the scale. It feels like my everyday walk to my own execution. Was I good enough? I knew I could have purged more, fuck. I know it. I hate that there is lunch with everyone, together, at one table. There is no way out. And now I will see all my bad behavior in just a number. Let me die. I don't want to see it. I don't. I have to because the number decides on what will happen today, on how I'll feel today. Lost some weight? Fine. Good girl. Put on weight? You know what that means? No food at all, you have to get around lunch today. More sport today, more work. Do it! You know you have to get rid of all this fat. You have to. This is part one of my day. 
But there is still part two and it goes like this:
This is what you call good work? This is kinda good enough, you sayin'? I don't think so. You will never be able to do it right. What about if you just decide to jump off that bridge tonight? That bridge where you always stop during your inline skating tour. I know how often you thought about just letting go. Sitting on the guard rail, now just spread your arms. You can fly, finally! Go for it.
CUT. Next scene. 
Have you ever thought about that there is no one how really cares? No one? Nobody sees you, you're invisible! Invisible even to your mom. She will never see you, she will never see who you really are. You have to make her notice you. And you know how this works, right? Lose your fucking weight. Lose all the fat on your body, get skinny. She will see you! She will finally notice you! It will be too late then maybe, but wasn't it worth it? I think so.
CUT. Next scene.
Thinking of the future, will it get better? I am so afraid, all these fears in my head. When they start to get in my head at night, it feels like dying. Starting to cry, hysterically. Paranoia. They will come and kill me. Loss of control. I don't want them to take over control. And I don't want these thoughts. I can fight them, I know I can... for now. But I know that they get stronger and that I get weaker every day. And one day they will be stronger than me. And then it will be over.
The day on which they get stronger than I am will be the day when I'll leave this cruel world.
Until then it's just waiting.

I'm just in love.

In love with Gossip Girl.
I always thought I'd hate it because... everybody loved it. But today I started to watch it and I'm totally into it. It was definitely worth my time.
Is anybody of you watching Gossip Girl?
Oh... And another thing: I LOVE Taylor Momsen as Jenny and I LOVE Blairs styling, just sayin'.

Paranoia.

I feel it when they talk behind my back. I know that they talk about how fat I've become. Some of them know about my eating habits and they will say things like "Eeew, did you know she's anorexic? She doesn't even look like one." "She is so fat, how could she possibly ever have an eating disorder?" "She just eats normal, I think she wants attention. She's such a whore." I can feel them saying it, I can hear them saying it and I can feel their looks all over me.

And they are right. I am fat. Disgustingly fat.

I just want it to end.

I wish I could go back to a normal life. A life where you're in school, where you complain about too much homework. A life where you meet your friends after school, go shopping, have fun. A life where you have to learn for tests, you hate it but you do it anyways because you want to achieve something in school, in life.
I wish I would be at that point. All I do right now is work, eat and purge. There is nothing else in my life. I've got no friends because all I do is work. I eat all day, I am as fat as a person can be and I really mean it. I am fat and I get fatter every day. And I purge. I purge so much, it disgusts myself.
I needwanthave to die. 

And the fact is...

... I am oh so done.

... I am tired of feeling.

... I am tired of breathing.

... I am tired of trying so hard. 

... I am just simply tired of living.

... And I am tired of loving.

I am just fucking tired of this whole fucking shit life. Let me die tonight. Please!

Maybe the only thing I am good at is destroying myself.

From the outside looking in, you can't understand it.
From the inside looking out, you can't explain it.

Everyday life.

SURVEY!!

I made a survey! You can see it on the sidebar.
Please vote, I would be really happy to get as many answers as possible.

What would you think of a mutual blog presentation? Anyone interested?

So how was your day so far? I have the feeling like nobody's really reading my blog, is there anyone?

Until you can't breathe no more.

I know I can't be back at 5 by tomorrow. I feel like crying all day and all night.
This is slowly killing me. But I don't care as long as it will finally happen!
My feelings of today summed up in one picture:

Back to 6. Brb dying!

I hate that I always feel the need to do something for other people. Eat for them is the worst one. I hate that I always feel like I need to eat in front of my mum. She's always so happy when we have dinner together. We usually don't see each other during the week but when she's here on friday, she loves when we go to BurgerKing or something like these fast food things because that is the only time we spend together while I am working.
Mostly I am working seven days a week, but sometimes I have a "free weekend" where I come home. But when I don't, she comes to visit me and cause there aren't really any restaurants here, we always go to BurgerKing. I hate it, I hate it so much, I feel like the most disgusting person ever after eating there. But when I look at her, I feel like I have to do it. She is so happy when she sees me eat. She looks so happy. I don't want to disappoint her, this is why I'm eating this disgusting shit.
And this is why I am back to that gross number 6.
I am feeling like a pig, like a whale. Today is a weak day. I hate them. Yesterdays' dinner with mum made me weak. I have to be strong, I have to keep going, I have to go back to number 5!!!!!
I am such a disgusting bitch!

Loosing and loosing and loosing.

I'm loosing quite a lot at the moment.
I am loosing a lot of friends, people I really need in my life. I am loosing my strength to fight. And I am also loosing my strength to work. My doctor diagnosed an extreme anemia so working is quite hard for me currently. Getting up in the morning is not the hardest thing anymore, getting through the day without breaking down is even harder. Breaking down because my body isn't working right anymore or breaking down in tears. That's the question that leads me through the day. Will I make it without breaking down in any of these ways? I am also loosing a lot of weight, for me it is easier to compensate my fears, doubts and weaknesses with loosing weight than with self-harm. I mean, it's both quite easy and it's hard to work with both, too. But I am disappointing less people when I only loose weight. So here I go. My friend- number 5 - he is back. And I am really happy, it really makes me smile when I step on the scale and I see the numbers drop. I love it, it feels like a drug, my drug.
And it helps me getting over him. I miss him and I hate that it is so hard to finally talk about it, to solve the problem between us. I wish it would be like it used to be. I wish I could tell him. I wish I could. I wish I would.

I am feeling so numb at the moment. The only thing I really feel are my bones. They are the only thing that makes me feel something. There is nothing else. No feelings and I don't know how much longer I can survive without feeling a thing. I don't know how much longer I can survive with all this hate inside me, hate against myself. I don't know.

I'm not me anymore.

I'm the bruises on my legs, the bumps in my spine. I'm the ribs in my chest and the hips poking out. Despite all this, I am the fat on my stomach and the numbers on the scale; the fleshy skin on my arms and thighs that beg me to slice. Who am I? I'm the pathetic little girl who cannot fight the demon in her head.

Or maybe, just maybe, the demon is me.