Let me tell you something about a girl I once called a friend. She is a person that goes by many names, most hidden in disguise. To one who knows her, each and every one of her names jumps out at you and leaves you with your heart in your throat; hoping you heard it wrong.

At first she was a beautiful girl fashioned with bright colors and flashing smiles. When she smiled, something about her perfect white teeth left a strange creeping and addicting temptation. She was to be admired; she always spoke of great things and promised you the world, just take her hand. That’s all she asked. The girl of beauty was confusing and yet entrancing. There were rumors and stories about her, but the girl I saw did not seem scary, instead graceful. So what if I took her hand?

I saw her beauty and grace dance into the ways of another. The more we danced the more her smile turned cold. The beautiful girl flashing in colors turned black. The only reason she wore such a big dress was to hide the terrors that lie beneath. I tripped and stumbled, relentless to start dancing myself. I cried and screamed, and yet I could still see her beauty. I could still see the beautiful girl she was when we first met; maybe that’s why I stayed.

And suddenly it all stopped. The dance stopped and everything went still. I was left to stop my spinning and just sit… thinking... think about what had happened. The more I thought the more I realized the monster, the one I let come so far, she was but a figment of my imagination. She was gone just as fast as I could let go of her. She was the girl I once called a friend.