Oh, look over there. No... there, you see? It's coming this way. Wait, it's her... Quick, hide behind your hands so she won't see you. What? Of course it's worked, I do it every time. Half of the battle is just making her think you don't care either. Oh, well I'm not too sure about the other half of the battle. I think that one is already lost. Which is probably why it only works half of the time. Wait, it looks like she's de-


                                                         SHIT.

      She saw us. Quickly, look ignorant, she might laugh and walk away. No... it isn't working.

    ...Hello to you too... No I di- Yes but- Well if you really think that I would...


   If only you would see it my way, I would tell you exactly how long I have hated you, and exactly how many times I've stabbed your back with various sharp words. Maybe you can see too, and be like me. You can never believe the world, because it never really has much to tell, so when it does talk, you look dumbfounded and jump beneath your bedsheets. Then, instead of inviting anyone else to stay with you, you just sit there and pretend that everyone is a monster under your bed, anxious to have a bite of your leg if you even consider getting out from under there. And that, my friend, is where you go wrong. Because in this frigid reality, everyone is above you, and they cannot wait to drop their very being on top of you, smothering you with their ideas and beliefs and language and opinions and voice. All of that gets incredibly heavy, and not even your spirit can lift it.

                                    I would rather face the monsters.









But that's just my opinion.