Once, there was a little girl. She was completely ordinary, just like you and me. One day however, monsters came and abducted her. They abused the little girl to the point that she had forgotten her humanity. By then, the little girl wasn't quite ordinary anymore. She had become a monster girl.
The monster girl spent most of her days in isolation. Not quite human, not quite a monster, she had no place to go. The monster girl may have spent the rest of her life living this way, but it was not meant to be since one day, a human boy came.
Instead of fearing the monster girl, he befriended, accompanied and appreciated her. He reintroduced her to very human things and although she can never be completely human again, bits and pieces of her humanity slowly returned.
But the story doesn't end there. The monsters decided to prey on the human boy. It may have been a form of their sweet revenge or perhaps plain entertainment. Their reasons may never be known.
The monster girl knew that the only way to save the human boy was to fight the monsters, a feat that human girls couldn't possibly do. And so, out of love for him, she decided to embrace the monster inside her, sacrificing her humanity once more.
With the monsters defeated, she knew that she was back from where she started. She was a monster again, and who knows? Maybe the human boy might fear her and leave her after seeing her true form. But she was wrong.
She found the human boy by her side. Despite knowing her true form or understanding that she will never be truly human, he stayed. Despite knowing that they may be attacked by monsters again or understanding that she may revert into a monster again and again, he stayed. And to the monster girl, that meant everything.
This simple comic is actually based on a true story.
I had an abusive childhood. My parents only found out about it when the neighbors told them that they could hear me screaming and crying from the house. Although I don't remember much of it, whenever my memories resurface, it stings and I feel like losing myself all over again. You could say that those experiences messed me up. Growing up, I knew how different I was from the other kids. I had very violent tendencies (I threw books at my classmates in kindergarten; I bit a classmate on the shoulder in Elementary; and I clawed a boy who harassed me in front of the teachers in high school). I also developed these strange mannerisms after being labelled a bruha (witch) and an aswang (demonic winged creature in Philippine mythology), such as a hatred of garlic, onions and vegetables (it was entirely psychological; I am slowly trying to get over it).
With that said, it was hard for me to be accepted by my peers, no matter how much I try to ''act'' normal, since one way or another, my true self will just resurface, and it'll frighten or push them away. But there were these few people who stuck by me, despite knowing what sort of ''monster'' I can be whenever I lose control. These few people mean everything to me, which is why I do everything and anything to make them feel safe and happy, because they made me feel the same way. To these people, I am eternally grateful, and I dedicate this short story to them.