There's a girl in my closet. I'm sitting on my bed watching her. She's wild haired and vaguely resembles a smaller version of me - a child me. Her eyes are desperate and disturbed, wide with fright and vigilance.
She's determined to eat the contents of my closet.
Leaning against the wall she chews my shoes, my scarves. She's toothy and twitchy and something I want to get rid of but my eyes don't stop seeing her and she doesn't stop seeing me. She chews hungrily at the materials in her mouth and her limbs jerk at strange angles.
I wonder why her bones don't break.