BETTER OFF ALONE

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​I need to confess.  I cannot live like this anymore.  If they knew… if any of them knew what really happened to me, they would never look at me the same again.

 

First there was just me.  Alone, sad, remorseful for things I had not yet done.  Then she came along, or rather, it.  I though it was a she.  No, I wanted it to be a she.  But it came.  And it changed me.  And it made me stop caring.

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I thought her eyes flickered white on my face, but really it was blue.  And where I thought I wanted joy I realised I preferred emptiness.