Black

Humans are destined for companionship for it is vital to live a stable life. I had a companion, and still do, but for now my life is just life. My companion has no name to her face, warmth to her hands, or breathes in her lungs; but yet she was still mine. For as long as I could remember we were always together, she kept me company on the bench at the park whispering to me that the other kids would do nothing but tease me for my long dark hair until I cried and begged my mother to take me home. She now keeps me company while I sit in my room watching movies on my computer, constantly reminding me as I go to leave the house to do run errands or to go to school that everyone will make fun of me for being a "freak" or that they won't like my clothes. That's now, back then when trying to make simple conversation she would twist my words, and breathe down my neck making sweat run down to my back; I had a chance to finally make a friend, and there she was holding me back. . Every now and then she tells me, "I'm the only one you need, I'm the only one that understands you." She never lets me forget that I don't have friends, and should never need any for they could do me great harm; and when I ever tried to be courageous and do so she would tighten my muscles and hold my tongue making me stutter, she was the reason I was alone. She wanted me all for herself, and I was hers and have been here since those days on the bench and no one else's; I cannot defy her for I am not courageous enough and she is too powerful