Forever

When I heard her quiet voice in the darkness, I couldn't help but run to her. I enveloped her in my arms, lifting her up and holding her miniature body close to mine, "I'm so sorry, babydoll, I'm so sorry."

She was crying, and it broke my heart. She must've been so frightened, "Twitchy, don't you ever do that to me again!" She ordered, and I grinned; she was so cute.

"I won't, love."

She tightened her hold around my neck. Surprisingly, that was the first time that I'd actually hugged her. It's difficult to give someone a proper hug when they're not allowed to see your face, but luckily, it was pitch black, as we were trapped in her unconscious mind. I could hold her as much as I wanted.

We'd stayed like that for a while as she calmed down. Soon enough, she'd fallen asleep, and I sat down, shifting her so that I could rock her lightly as she slept.

I was ashamed that I put her through that. I thought I was helping her, but I'd done the opposite. I knew how much she feared the dark, how much she feared my absence. She was stuck in that stupid void, blind and alone. I even hated it there, and I was able see, for the most part.

I pressed my lips to her forehead, letting a few tears escape, finally letting myself truly acknowledge the terror I had just faced.



For the next few months, Marilyn saw a psychiatrist, who, thanks to my excellent scripting for Marie, didn't suspect anything. The sessions did, however, help her cope when having an attack.
She'd tried going back to school, but those horrid little kids treated her like the plague. Her parents eventually decided they'd have to move, to give her a fresh start.

I was glad, I don't think I could've taken one more minute around those annoying punks.

Her doctor had prescribed some sort of medication to reduce the her spasms, but because I'm not a medical issue, for lack of a better way to put it, the twitching would never really stop. Unfortunately, the pills sedated me in the slightest, and of course, I did not appreciate that. But no matter, I wanted what was best for her and being a little floaty wasn't such a big price to pay.

I didn't hear any more from my father, and I was grateful. I'd damn the bastard to go burn in hell if it weren't for the fact that he was already there. There were no words for how much I hated him. He was never a father to me. He was a creator, nothing more.

But I didn't want to get hung up on my dad any longer, he could go fuck himself, the lonely, disgusting mutant of a being that he was.

Besides, I was already busy being hung up on a certain ten-year-old girl.

Or should I say, almost eleven-year-old girl, as her birthday was nearing. It would also be our two year anniversary...And two years away from her death.

And the sickest part? Deep down, I was fucking excited. I cared so much about her that it hurt, but I still got a thrill from the thought of her blood on my hands.

I wasn't all that different than my father. And I knew it.