Wardrobe (✔)

Her Purple Tee

She was laying peacefully in the sunlit bed of grass, with one knee sitting over the other, and a daisy in her hand. Her hair was pitch black, and wild. It sat entangled in the grass, as her maroon skin glowed in the sunlight. She squinted her large, chocolate, brown eyes slightly, as if she were reading the petals of the daisy in her hand. She always did this when she was in a peaceful state of mind. Which doesn't happen very often.

I won't lie, it was always my fault.

And oh sweet terror, was she beautiful. Her hair, her plump cheeks, her gorgeous brown eyes. She was wearing light blue, slightly distressed jeans, and a deep purple tee. She's so gorgeous and mine. And precious. And mine. All mine.

"Five," she said gently as she let the daisy fall unto her chest.

"Yes, my dear?" I replied.

"I want to go home now. To Mom, Dad and even Claire." She answered as she sat up.

"But, you are home, my love. I'm your home. You're away from your older sister; who ignores you on a daily basis. Your parents; who are too invested in money, and their career to pay attention to you." I was getting agitated. I hated the thought of her leaving me. Couldn't stand it.

"Five, we've been through this before. I don't want to play anymore. This isn't real, and neither are you." She said with a calm, yet slightly persuasive voice.

"I'm not real?!" I croaked. "Who's been telling you these lies, darling?"

"Mom." She uttered while twiddling with her fingers.

"That witch? You told her about me, didn't you? " I paused for a moment, and tried to reason with her. "People are evil, dearest. All humans will ever want to do is hurt you. They're demons. If you continue to tell them about me, they'll try to get rid of me!" I was trying desperately to convince her at this point, but I was close to losing my sense of sanity. Not that I was sane to begin with of course.. but you know what I mean.

"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Getting rid of you." She muttered. Her hands were tremoring with fear. Almost as if she knew what was going to happen next.

"After all the things I've done for you? You ungrateful thing. Struggle all you like, but you'll never get rid of me. You'll never be alone. The only thing they, and you, could ever do, is suppress me. I'll be with you until your very last breath." I declared.

I have to admit, she has gotten a lot braver. Although, I've never mentioned this to her. She never knew I could never go away. Until the day she dies, I'll always be with her. Humans may have found a way to conquer my prowess, but I'll never die. Matter of fact, I'm immortal.

She closed her eyes, and clenched her fists. She started breathing heavily. She then grabbed on to her hair, pulled it and began to scream. The beautiful valley which I had prepared for her, turned into a deep purple, endless space, where she floated around in pit of screams, and cries.

"Enough," She screamed as she bent her knees, and clutched onto her hair. She was floating around in the endless space, and her cries echoed. "Just get out of my head, I don't want you around anymore!" Tears began to stream down her face, as she continued to scream. She was truly, pathetically helpless.

"Shut up." I sneered. At that moment, gravity returned to the endless, deep purple space, and she began to fall. As she was drowning in an ocean full lethal memories, nightmares , and her greatest anxieties, she let out a blood-curdling scream. She was in her very own, custom version of hell.

She's trapped in one of my hallucinations now. Sigh. It's sad to say that this happens almost everyday. If only she cooperated, and appreciated the little reality I created for her, there'd be no need for this. She'll be 'fine' once her mother or whatever finds her in the human world, though. But in all honesty, she'd be better off dead.

Now that she's busy... I may as well introduce myself. Hmm... how would I sum myself up...

Ah. I am the definition of madness. I am the parent of all mad men and women. I am the original psychopath.

If I had a name, I would've told you, but I prefer to stay unnamed. My precious subject did name me "Five", when she was younger, though. Who knew that a little girl's once, "imaginary friend", would turn out to be her oppressor. Ironic, isn't it.

I'm tired of talking. I've got a lot more havoc to cause for my little bundle of joy. Who knows, maybe I'll be messing with your head one day. See you around. Did I ever mention how much I loved the colour purple? Whoops, there I go again.