My friend...he is the best
My mom says she can see him
But I know
She can’t see
But he sees her
Which is funny when you think about it
He has no face
So how can he see?
“It’s a secret” he says
He tells me he has no name
I name him Ice
He tells me it’s alright to kill people
He doesn’t get angry when I say no
When I wake up in the night
He is watching from the ceiling
In the mornings
While I brush my teeth
We talk through the mirror
He likes to make my reflection scary
My eyes fall out
My nose becomes bloody
My lips split like paper
My hair is in soaked patches
My mouth falls open in a scream no one but us can hear
He says he will one day make me his
Forever
When I ask how he doesn’t answer
Sometimes I walk in and see him crying
It echoes with an eerie resonance
It has the reflection of other cries
I can hear them ring through my soul
My mom wants me to make “real” friends
I tell her Ice is my real friend
She gets angry
I am grounded to my room
Spending the day reading and talking to Ice
He seems off
Saying it is nothing he suggest it’s time for bed
Agreeing I change and get into bed

With a jolt I am. . . awakened?
I hear the crying again
Getting up I look around
Ice is on the floor near the foot of my bed
“What’s wrong?”
He trembled as he looks up
I can see it
His face and hands are covered in blood
“I. . . I couldn’t help it. She was going to make you forget me. So I took you first.”
He points to my bed
I see myself
My wrists are slit
“Please don’t be mad.”
I know I should be
I should hate him
Loathe him
But I don’t
Going over to him I take a bloody hand
When he looks up I stare into my own eyes

My friend. . . He is the best

Because he is me

And I am him