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I'm not mad...

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This Christmas my family had to struggle once again with what to buy me. This year, it was something small, yet practical. A little cuddly toy you could heat up and cuddle on cold nights.

 

I haven't used it. I don’t think i will. It's sat in the corner of my room in an oddly crowded shelf, its uncanny eyes glaring at me at all times. It hates me.... I think it wants me dead...

 

I’m not mad...

 

I often see it move out of the corner of my eye. I see it sit up straight, or shift slightly. I can’t move it; I can’t sleep either. I'm too scared it'll attack me...

 

I'm not mad...

 

I've started sleeping on the couch, listening out in the dark in my old house. I hear creaks and groans as it moves around in my bedroom. I hear it whispering and howling on windy nights...

 

I'm not mad...

 

I've not told anyone about it. I'm scared they'll think I'm mad...

 

I'm not mad...

 

I’m not mad, am I?

The End
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