This is where I live. This is where I belong, here, with you.
This is where I watch you study your reflection, listen as you call yourself fat. Yes, I say, you look repulsive. I love it when you cry.
This is where I stamp on your ideas, tell you that you can’t, that you will fail. You don’t often try anything anymore. You believe me when I tell you it’s safer that way. After all, I have your best interests at heart, don’t I?
This is where I live, inside your head, watching, criticising. I am your inner voice, evict me if you dare.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entries here.