I don't expect you to believe my story. I would think you an idiot if you even consider believing my story. It would be like suddenly believing in aliens or ghosts. So no, I don't expect you to believe my tale. However I beg that you force yourself to believe in all that I write. The danger is imminent and all too real; this may save your life. Now I have definitely turned you away. You are probably rolling on the floor and laughing at my words. You must think me clinically insane or just pulling your leg. If so then you are thinking rationally. No one sane would believe in monsters. From a young age you were told that there's no such thing as monsters. That the cupboard and the underside of the bed are safe from such harmful beings. I am not going to tell you that monsters are real because such a term is childish and immature to describe lurking evils. What I am going to tell you is that parasites do exist. Not in the dark or in isolated places but everywhere. They latch onto us and feed on our energy. If we don't do something to get rid of them quickly or if we grow comfortable with them, then they might never leave us. The worst type of evil becomes the one that you really can't let go off and I found mine in the garden.