Annabelle & Anathema

CHAPTER 1: ANATHEMA

December 1st, 2017

"I see you got rid of him." I say, lightly smirking with one brow raised, staring at her.

"No, he got rid of me"

Annabelle is sitting on the edge of her bed, sniffling while wiping her tears away. Her eyes are red and puffy from rubbing her sweater sleeve harshly against them.

"Pathetic." I spit with a chuckle. "He got rid of you? I'm not surprised." I pause and and wait for a reaction. Something to feed off of.

Nothing.
So I try again.

"It's a shame, really. I was just starting to like him." I grin, "Ah, how he wallowed in self-pity, always talking about suicide. I loved the fact that it brought you down, that it stressed you out." I sit beside her, making her flinch.

"Fuck you, Anathema."

Ah, Anathema. That's me. I love and hate that nickname all at once. We don't know my real name, and so, Annabelle gave me this one. Go ahead and google it, the word Anathema, I mean.
You know, if you want your inner demons to stop torturing you, why give them such an offensive word as a name?

"He said I lied." Her voice cracked. "He said he couldn't trust me anymore."

"Hmph" I scoff, only making her sadness turn to fury.

"I did everything for that kid. I pushed my feelings aside and told him I was getting better just so we could focus on him getting better"

"That is a lie, because I'm still here, meaning-" she cuts me off.

"I know that!" She says, gritting her teeth.

"You're weak. You made yourself Vulnerable. I warned you."

"I just wanted a friend-"

"No." I interrupted, "you don't deserve one... you're a Liar. Remember?" I grinned, pleased with the look of disappointment she displayed.

"Fuck. Off. You fucking curse. You're evil."

"Evil?" I scoff, "No, No, No, you're evil. I've said this numerous times and I'll say it again. I am you and you are me. I'm in your mind. I'm not real."

"Stop it." She says bluntly, "Stop."

"Stop what?" I put my hands up sarcastically, "I'm only telling you the truth."

"Why does it hurt so much.. i-i don't understand.." she falters, hugging her knees close to her chest.

"Because you're weak. Pathetic. It's embarrassing. Absolutely embarrassing. I'm ashamed to be apart of you."

"Then leave."
Now she's standing up, walking to the piano across the room.

"You know it isn't that easy." I say softly.
I sit beside her, playing a C-Major. "I need you gone, then I'm free. You die, I get to go back home. Why do you think I was sent here? It's my job."
I start to play a song that always punches her in the gut when she hears it- Goner.
My fingers glide across the keys and I can feel every low vibration tearing her apart, which makes me smile.
I start humming, playing the notes for my pleasure and her discomfort.

"Though I'm weak, and beaten down.. I'll always find my comfort in music. I'll slip away into the sounds of the notes, and I'll forget about everything." She says, promisingly. "Even you."