He looks at me with wide, trusting eyes. He stares over my shoulder, watching everything I do. He is silent. He is a Watcher. An Observer. Nothing more than a ghost who sees but cannot do.
I bury my face in my hands, teeth barred. I hate him. I hate every fraction of him from his wide eyes to his wagging tail. He tilts his little head to the side, peering around my shoulder. He looks concerned and I hate him even more for it. He must think I'm weak. That I'm pathetic. That I'm useless. It's not true. None of it is. None. Of. It. My ears are flat against my head and I dig my fingers into my face. I am strong. The strongest. The only reason I lost to them was- NO. No, I can't think about that. I can't.
His tail is wagging again. I see it from the corner of my eyes. He has to go. Go far away. I had though he was- No, no, but it wasn't good enough. Locking him away wasn't enough. Locking those away. He stopped me from winning. He clawed his way out of the dark pit I stuffed him into all those years ago. He stopped me. He corrupted me. He made me equal- No, less, than those filthy insects that…that…
I press my eyes shut and focus my mind. I am done. I am done with the aching he brings. I am done with the regret his stare brings to my mind. I am done with the sadness, oh, the sadness, the loss, the pain, the true weakness he summons in me. I just need to get rid of him. I need to get rid of the pain. Once I do that…once I'm free, I…I…
"Why?" His voice is soft, but it slices through my mind and concentration without a problem. My eyes are open. I am there. I am here. My place. I stare down at him with contempt. He thinks he's safe. He thinks he knows me. He thinks he can hurt me and stop me and control me and he can't! He can't! He's worthless! He's nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
He speaks again. "Why are you crying?"
I raises a hand to my eyes and brush away a tear. No. No, no, no, no, no. I do not cry. I do not. NO.
I am on my knees. On the ground. Why am I on the ground? Why can't my legs support me? I feel his body against mine and his arms around my torso and I'm crying. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I…I hate me. I hate me. I hate my life, I hate what I…I hate how, how, I hate how unstable I feel, how I can't keep him in a box, how he always gets out. How I always feel them. Feel that regret, that sorrow, that nostalgia, that aching in my chest.
It makes me think that, it reminds me, it just. It just.
Why do I think I'm special? Why do I feel like the universe owes me anything? I am, I…
I am just a failure. Useless. Broken. I can't make her happy. I can't make them happy. I can't make me happy. I don't even know what I want. I can't…I just…
He wants to make me happy. He thinks he can, but he can't. He's stupid. He's weak. He's deluded.
He can't do anything. How? How can he? I can't do anything. I can't do anything but shove him down. Push him away. Bury him.
I clench my hands into fists.
He's doing this to me. He's why I'm crying. Why I'm weak. Why I… Why I'm me.
I shove him aside with as much energy as I can muster. "No," I shout, "NO!"
He stares at me. He doesn't look angry. Just sad. Just confused. I don't want to…I just…can't. I rub my eyes, but they are still wet. He opens his mouth. "Please." He takes a step forward. "Pay attention to me."
He stands too close to me. I want to reach out and shove him away, but I'm shaking too much. I cannot tolerate him here. I stare at him and I realize that, if I want to get rid of him…of my weakness…he cannot stay in my head. I curl my hands into fists. I'll think of something. I always do.