Hush my darling,

You're perfect to me.

Alice is in a room.

The room has perfect, beautiful white walls.

Perfectly sloping windows.

Perfect, straight lines.

Alice is in the center of the room. Alice has long, perfect fingers and long, perfect hair. She doesn't know what color it is, because she has never checked. Her dress is blue and white and has small square checkers on it. Perfection.

There is something there. Something with pale skin and brown eyes and brown hair. It is neat and tidy, absolutely spotless.

It tries to talk to Alice.

Alice says nothing.

It says hello and how are you in a smooth voice. Alice likes the voice. She tells the voice her name is Alice and that she is well. The something smiles a perfect smile full of white teeth.

The voice says many things to Alice.

The voice says that it is named Adrian and that it is the same age as Alice. Alice turns the corners of her mouth upwards and says that it is nice to meet the something named Adrian.

The something named Adrian laughs a perfect laugh with a perfect tone. It says that Alice can call it Adrian. The something that can be called Adrian rubs its eyes with pale hands.

It is wearing a perfect white shirt and blue pants.

Alice touches the perfect white. The white moves away. The voice says that it does not like to be touched.

She ignores the voice and puts her hand out to touch the shirt. The shirt moves away. The voice says that it will come back soon. Then the something is gone.

The something called Adrian is gone for a long time. It comes back later. Alice asks where the perfection went. The voice asks what she means.

Alice's voice says that she likes perfection.

It does not respond.

Symmetrical eyes are looking at Alice.

Her voice tells the something that Alice likes symmetry.

The smooth voice asks Alice why she speaks in third person.

Alice does not understand. She smiles and nods. The head smiles and shakes from side to side slowly. The voice laughs softly. Alice's voice is a broken record that laughs.

The body becomes uncomfortable first. The body moves. The feet move.

They move in straight lines.

Sloping, straight lines.

Lines.

The arms are around Alice. Alice does not understand.

Alice does not understand.

The voice whispers in her ear. It says that it knows that Alice is not insane.

It says that Alice is a friend.

A friend.

Alice knows what a friend is.

Alice knows.

Friend is not something Alice wants.

Alice opens her mouth and turns on her broken record again.

The white shirt moves away. Her record gets louder and more broken.

Her voice is not smooth. It is broken.

Broken is not perfect.

Her voice is not perfect.

Alice closes her mouth.

The face is confused. The eyebrows move away from their place.

They make wrinkles.

The skin is not smooth.

No no no.

It is not perfect.

Alice is angry at the non-perfection.

The something is no longer perfect.

Perfection. Alice likes perfection.

The something called Adrian is an imperfection now.

Imperfection is not neat and tidy and straight and perfect.

Alice removes the imperfection.

Alice is in a room.

The room has long, straight walls.

The walls are no longer white.

Alice is alone.

Hush my darling.

You won't always be.