She said my black hole was too dark.
Not enough lights that worked.
Not enough pictures.
Too shiny and smells too clean. Like an alternate hospital smell. Something strong and sterilised- but like a home version.
She hated the hospitals. Every time she went in, her mom and dad looked sad.
She knew they were trying to fool her. Every time they promised her something new or something she wanted. She knew. Something was wrong and she was left out of the game.
She liked Billy. But said Lady looked too sad.
She liked to cuddle.
Sometimes I got frightened, waking up with a little lump next to my side on the bed.
She was not mine to hold.