text: She was following me. She appeared when I was 12. Sitting on walls, hiding behind my friends, up high in trees or under my bed as I tried to sleep. She was never in my direct line of sight, always barely visible, mostly a shadow in the corner of my eye. She spoke a lot. Whispering her secrets into the air like she knew best. When I was younger I couldn’t hear what she was saying, it was just unintelligible mumbling. Her posture was hunched, her hair dark and long, covering her eyes and she always wore the same ratty dark clothes. She started speaking up more as I got older, or maybe I started listening more closely. She gave me harsh advice, telling me nobody will like me if I don’t listen to her. That everyone thought I was ugly and stupid and only she could fix that. That I’m worthless without her help. She got more aggressive as time passed. Punishing me harshly when I didn’t do things exactly to her liking. I had to be outgoing, kind, helpful, handsome and funny. Perfect. When things weren’t to her standards she would mock me, claw at my back and take my appetite until the pain from hunger made me cry. She made me cower in fear when she was angry at me, I did everything to avoid that. Her words weakened my heart, her wounds my body. I got used to this though. I relied on her, she knew best after all. When she was proud of me I felt like I was on top of the world. So when her demands became more egregious I complied. It started small at first, telling me that my friends weren’t trustworthy. She’d take every minor misdemeanour on their part and twist it into proof that they weren’t on my side until I eventually stopped talking to them altogether. It didn’t matter though, I had her to keep me safe from the treacherous world. Next she told me, that she was tired of punishing me. That I had learned so much from her and I should know what actions deserved punishment and do it myself. Instead she just mocked me, calling me fat while I starved and ugly as I dyed my hair black. Eventually the praise stopped completely. She started getting pushy, restless. She kept telling me I had to leave soon, yet refused to tell me where I was going to go. I prepared by packing my things in suitcases but she just called me stupid. Where I was going I apparently wouldn’t need my things. I was scared. I didn’t want to leave my home behind, until I realised that she was my home. I had already abandoned everything else. I told her I was ready to leave and that was when I first saw her whole face. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was greasy and rope like, her eyes were foggy and dull. Yet still she had the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face. Before I could ask her where we were going, she pulled me into a tight hug and the only thing that followed was black. After what felt like an eternity I felt her let go and she was gone. I was stood alone on a playground, completely disoriented and confused. I felt something pull my vision to the left until I saw him. He was about 12, blonde and had a lively grin on his face. I decided to follow him, although I didn’t know why at the time. I kept my distance, sitting on walls, hiding behind his friends or sitting on trees. I always stayed out of his line of sight, just visible in the corner of his eye. A/N: Hey, this is the first short story I've written, I hope you like it. I'd love to hear critique or thoughts on this.