Flash Fiction: I Exist Inside You

I should’ve known better. He was not the man of wisdom. He was the analyzer that probed too much. Whatever was in his hands, he inspected it until it had grown weary of his attention. The reason I know this is because I was his assistant. I was the one who picked him up when he had dived off the springboard, into a pool with not enough water, and hit his head on the bottom. I was the one who positioned his head just so that when the audience members wondered why his head slanted too far on either side, I corrected it before it was too late, and everyone left him to speak to an audience of none. The problem is he never returned my kindness. I would have taken any kind of payment, but one can’t receive his due when you exist to only one person, and that person is too genius to know you exist. Maybe, I’m giving him too much credit. Then again, he was the one who created me in the first place. It only took a little bit of maneuvering to persuade him he needed me. You see, I was the soft voice in his head that became louder over time. I invaded his mind when he slept and bothered him during his working days. He soon was not able to concentrate fully on his ambitions to create the most perfect companion to his miserable life because of my doing. I was quite proud of it when he finally succumbed to the forces of my power. I washed the only fruit he ate, the apple, on all kinds of fabrics: my five days worn in a row pants, dirty towels, clean bed linens, washcloths that had the unfortunate death with his mutt of a dog, and worst of all frayed potholders. I know another day is nearing, and he must give me my rightful reward. If he doesn’t, I will make sure he will pay his due. I’d rather not, but I am not the one who has turned his back on me, and never knowing I existed in the first place is no longer good enough.

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