There is a thin line between reality and fiction, and when that line disappears, they call you Crazy.

I didn't mean to. I don't even remember anything. There was no one there to support my concept that a lethal demon possessed me and acted with my body; I was played like a puppet and I had to take the blame since people saw my face with the crime. That demon was a coward, concealing themself in a human so they wouldn't have to pay the price; death. When I get my hands on it, I'll strangle the life out of him and send hi