I have a friend named Brenda. She is often ignored and abandoned by other people in my class, even the teacher. Being bullied must feel bad, so I lend her a hand. I don’t understand why they didn’t like her; I find her nice to play with. However, ever since I played with Brenda, people started ignoring me and gossip behind my back, talking about how crazy I am. But it’s okay, I still have Brenda. 

Lately, Brenda has been really possessive. She started telling me to not play with other people but still helps me through tough times. Soon, she became my only friend. The only one who would hang out with me, and I'm the only one who would hang out with her. 

People are really mean, even my parents. I brought Brenda back to my house for a play date, and my father looked at her in the most displeased way possible. He also looked like me I’m insane, bringing this friend home. I noticed his attitude and quickly pulled Brenda in my room. 

I slammed my door and comforted Brenda, telling her that it’s okay. To my surprise, Brenda didn’t cry, but rather smiled and told me that she was used to this kind of treatment, "People are always like this when they see me." Suddenly, she put her face in front of mine and whispered next to my ear, “You know this kind of feeling too, right? You are just like me.” 

Even though I really liked Brenda, I couldn’t help but argue back. She is nice, but sometimes she is really selfish. I’m not selfish like her, and I didn’t get bullied until I hung out with her. “I’m not like you! We're totally different!”

She suddenly stood up and walked towards me slowly as I was about to barge out. Before I could turn the doorknob, I felt a gush of cold air pressing against my back. I shuddered, and saw Brenda’s hand pressing on the door. I turned my head reluctantly, and her face was so close to mine. However, I did not hear her breath. Her eyes turned from their usual light blue into a hollow black. She went from her usual scheming grin to a wide, creepy smile. “You’re wrong. You are just like me. I was from your imagination, just a puppet of your mind. But you gave me my own voice and mind for me to think. Taking over your life is much easier than I thought. You are me. I am you. We are one.” I felt my mind clear of any thoughts and lose consciousness as soon as she finished her sentence.

 Moments after, I was trapped in a cage, and in front of me is a giant screen. I saw the stairs in my house and my own two legs walking down. My dad looked up and saw me; I screamed for help, “Help! Dad, help me!” My father looked at me as if he didn’t hear anything, but rather said in a sweet voice, “Vivian,what were you doing upstairs? Are you hungry?” 

Then, I heard my own voice responding to the question, but it is much colder than I had remembered, “No, dad. I’m perfectly fine. I was just playing with my new puppet, Vivian.”