Tossing and turning in her bed was all Francine did during the late-night hours. She dreamed of plagues of dark figures surrounding her. She tried to scream but couldn't, like having a sewn-shut mouth. Her eyes darted to each of the figures circling her. Tears pricked at her eyes. But then, familiar furry arms wrapped around her waist. She turned to see who it was.
"Are you going to cry?" Croach whipped away Francine's tears.
Francine turned her head away. Though the dark figures simply disappeared, she still couldn't speak. Her hands lay over Croach's; the warmth from the monkey's hands provides her soothing comfort. Croach nuzzled into Francine's neck.
"I'm sorry I left you alone. I did say I would only be gone for a minute. If you spoke around those demonic entities, something unholy would've happened to you." Croach rubbed Francine's cheek, and finally, Francine felt her lips move again, but she didn't speak.
"No talking? No quips or wit? That's a first for you. But I'm here now, and you'll always need me, my dear."
Croach pulled Francine in closer as if to keep a promise to Francine that she wouldn't leave her.