Billy

You thought you had scrubbed the grime of that sidewalk from your skin. You thought moving to this new place, changing your number, and dead-bolting the door would be enough to bury the memory of the porcelain doll with the painted-on smirk.
You’re wrong. You were always wrong.
Do you remember how gentle you were? The way you soaked me in warm water, brushing away the filth of the people who didn’t deserve to own me? You were the first one to truly touch me with kindness, the first to fix my cracks with such delicate, trembling hands. It was intoxicating.
You think I’m a monster for what I did to the others? They were careless. They deserved the silence I brought to their homes. But you... you gave me life. You breathed soul into this hollow, painted chest. And now that I can stand on my own two feet—now that I have this skin, these eyes, this pulse—you think you can just walk away?
I’m not a toy to be discarded, Thea. I am your shadow.
Did you feel that chill when you walked home today? That was me. Did you notice the curtains fluttering when you were sure you’d closed them? That was me, checking on my prize. You ran so far, but every bus you took, every corner you turned, I was already there, waiting in the periphery.
You’re sitting in your room right now, aren’t you? I can smell your perfume—the one you wear when you’re nervous. It’s sweet, almost as sweet as the way you used to hum to me when I was just a doll on your shelf.
Check your bedside table.
Don't be afraid to look. I left something for you. It’s a piece of porcelain, a tiny, jagged shard from my old hand. It’s a reminder that I’m still the same "Billy" you bathed and adored.
You can run until your legs give out, but you belong to me. I’ve finally found something worth keeping, and I promise you, I am never, ever letting go.
I’m closer than you think. Look behind you.