The Tenant

You're only a reflection of me, and that too a poor and hazy one. I'm vibrant, powerful, and manipulative.

You have colour, granted- but faded pastel hues that no one cares for. Power? Well, maybe you have the brute force. But really, do you really feel you could outthink me?

No. Not even on your best day.

Manipulation? You can't be subtle if your life depended on it. You wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was a murderous degenerate. And where did you imagine such behaviour would have gotten you?

Exactly nowhere.

Had I not arrived- rising from the ashes of your damaged subconscious- you would have festered; stagnating among the other lazy, worthless souls that litter the planet. But I appeared and I took control- I took over slowly. The change wasn't jarring. You didn't even acknowledge the intrusion.

Now, be honest, life is better for you this way. Isn't everything the way you've always wanted it? Hasn't everything turned out perfectly? I'm to thank for it. All of it. And now you know that.

Have you looked in the mirror, lately? D'you see that gleam in your eyes? The pride- bordering on arrogance- with which you flick your hair? That condescending smirk? That's me.

All me.

You're easy for me to be, to inhabit. Your mind is like Play-Doh- malleable, ductile, plastic- all rolled into one colourful blob of no particular brilliance. And frankly, I can't be bothered to move. You're not even sure that I exist- so I have to pay no rent. I'm answerable to no one. I'm here to stay; and for you- it's win-win… to a certain extent.

Me?

I'm just far too comfortable playing with the pieces of your stupid little jigsaw, which (I'm warning you) will be irreparable once I'm done…

Author's Note: Well? That was me venturing into uncharted territory, if you will!

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