That’s all it was.
But it seems so real, she marvels.
She believed it was real for 7 years.
She believed for 7 years.
She was lost for 7 years.
Misty fog forms into a figure she’d seen for so many years.
A figure she had loved for 7 years.
A figure she had talked with, laughed with, ate with, for 7 years.
A figure that was not real.
A figure that was a figment of her own imagination.
A figure that was slowly turning back against it’s old owner.
Tearing her apart.
Terrible, terrible words.
Words that picked at the insides of her.
But she can’t give up.
She obeys the figure.
She listens to it.
She screams, but she listens.
She won’t give up on the figure that tortured her for 7 years.
She won’t give up on the figure that she loved for 7 years.