Miss Mayhem

For as long as I can remember, I saw things that others couldn't. Monsters. They were all monsters, the doctors insisted, even the ones who were nice to me. Even the friends who vowed to protect me. Medicines didn't seem to help, therapies only could do so much, and my parents were at their wits end. These living nightmares plagued my every breath, step, and word. They'd tangle my hair, trip me as I walked, spit in my breakfast. They were awful, these creatures. Why couldn't they just leave me alone?

I spent the entirety of my childhood living in fear of what no one else seemed to understand. Even the ones who tried to see what I saw pitied me. I had a protector when I was young, but then I had to move to Florida for help. Supposedly, there was some great doctor who knew what to do. So anyway, the protector couldn't come with me. The monsters became increasingly horrible, choking me and throwing my cell phone into the river.

This all stopped when I was eighteen. I don't know what happened, what I did or didn't do, but all of the sudden, the monsters left me alone. Even the friendly ones didn't come around anymore. At first it was unnerving, no, maddening. I cried and shouted for them to come back, and I was so confused. So lost without the world of my crazed mind. Eventually, I moved on. Accepted it. I was normal now.

Oh, but normalcy doesn't seem to like little Lottie. It was over, those nightmares that haunted my everyday life. So why are they coming back?