YOU CAN'T INTIMIDATE ME

I feel as though I dreamed last night. If there wasn’t written proof, I’d think I had. I know it happened, though, all of this is happening. I don’t know how, or why, but it must be.

Or, am I crazy?

You’re way too boring to be crazy. 

None of the fun kinds, anyway. 

What are you? What did you do with the gun?

Why? Thinking about using it? 

My children could find it. Tell me where the gun is.

It’s safe. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your precious little twins. 

Leave my entire family alone. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care. If you hurt my family, I’ll

Mistletoe 

What?

It’s what you can call me. 

Leave my family alone, Mistletoe.

And what do I get out of that? 

I won’t call the police, for starters.

Hahahahahahahahaha 

What do you think they’ll do? 

Arrest me? 

Do you even realize what I am? 

If I had to guess, some psychopathic stalker trying to ruin my life.

If that were the case, how could I make you remember those things? 

Why do I know everything about you?

What you think?

What you fear? 

What you love? 

What you hate? 

How did I make that cigarette magically appear in your mouth, Lyndsay? 

How did I make you fuck your husband’s gorgeous TA? 

She has a name, by the way. It’s pretty rude of you to not call her by it after she’s been elbow deep in you. 

You’re vile, and you’re probably drugging me somehow. Leave me alone, or I’ll be calling the police. I promise you that.

Do you remember what that “homeless man” told you? 

What? No. I

I’ll tell you, he was a fighter. 

Nowhere near as entertaining as you. 

He fought me at every angle. He figured it out almost from the start. 

But eventually, he gave in. 

I’m a monster, Lyndsay. 

I’m a splintered piece of the God of Death. 

I’m lust and desire and pain and rage and excitement. 

I’m the dart that kills Baldr. 

I’m the thing that you use as an excuse to kiss the people you were too scared to kiss. 

And I’m yours, now. 

I’m in your motherfucking head. 

I’m sharing a room with that pathetic excuse for a soul you have. 

Caged and alone to the first person who told you you were pretty. 

I’m your best and only fucking friend. 

I’m Mistletoe, Lyndsay. 

Let 

Me 

In. 

I’ve had it. I’m calling the police, right now.

I’m sure they’ll have a blast when they find the pot. And the gun. 

Neither of us wants you to go to jail, Lyndsay. 

I’m dialling. You can’t intimidate me.