Retaliation

The monster liked to give her hugs, drawn out and suffocating.

They had been acquaintances at first. He'd occasionally come for a visit, but leave after a few days. He was the worst house guest, breaking her things and snooping around, but he never stayed long.

Until one day, he came and never left.

He was very clingy. Always by her side, all hours of the day. He'd depart for one minute and she'd hope he was gone forever. But he always returned.

He would wrap his arms around her waist, and she'd try to pry them off. It didn't work. He was too strong.

He was jealous and possesive. He didn't like seeing her with anyone else. So he'd manipulate her, make her say the wrong thing. He smiled every time one of her relationships crumbled, like a burning building.

She'd want to go outside, but his firm grip kept her tethered. No, not today, he'd say to her over and over again. Occasionally, she would sneak out, but her freedom was fleeting. He dragged her back, making her skate over the dewy grass.

He was always watching.

She'd reach for something to do, a set of pastels, a journal. He saw. He grabbed her hands, held them behind her back. Made her wrists sore and on the verge of snapping.

He liked making her cry. He'd tell her that she was worthless, that there were so many messed up things in her life. That her existence was a waste of space. She wanted to hold them in, stand up to him, but he'd keeping going until the sadness prickling her eyes were too much. He wouldn't stop talking.

The woman sitting across from her asked a question.

"So... what's wrong?"

His hand was over her mouth, cold and clammy. To keep her silent.

Then his grip eased up a bit. His words transferred into her mind. He wanted her to say: Nothing really. It's fine. Everything's fine.

But she had accepted the truth. He wasn't her friend anymore.

"I think I'm depressed."