Prompt: They sent me because I don't exist.
They sent me because I don't exist.
What, don't believe me? Try and see me in the air. I'm not there, am I? That's because I technically don't exist. That is, I don't exist until someone imagines me. Hear me now, whispering in your right ear? That's because you imagined me there. See the outline of my body, monstrous and gorgeous and invisible and flushed with color all at once? That's because you thought of me like that.
Oh look, now I'm in your head. No, don't panic, it's quite nice in here. I can see everything your heart, soul, and mind desires. You've got a lovely soul by the way, all twisted in and upon itself, trying to shade you from the world. You'd better hang on to it, those types of souls are pretty hard to find nowadays.
Oh darn, you've sent me out again, but where am I? Am I above you? Below? To the left, or to the right? Am I a man or a woman, a beast or an abstract thought? How about a fox? Can you see all the glimmering reds, oranges, and whites that make up my shining fur coat? Or maybe you can only see the black and gray fur that hovers around my paws. I could be something less tricky if you want. A pencil, or maybe even a rock, though those are fairly boring because they don't have brains to think and see and talk with.
Ah, you think I'm a trickster now don't you? It's all right, I've been thought of as worse. Ooh, you're changing me again! That tickles! I feel...skinny, and clever. I'm forming skin that's morphing into scales.
A snake! I would be insulted if I didn't know that that's one of your favorite animals. You like snakes don't you? You like them because of the danger involved with dealing with them. But you don't need to worry, I'm not dangerous. I can't do any harm to you, because I am only what you think, say, and imagine I am. You could imagine me with a thousand guns strapped to my arms, or holding trillions of knives, but I can't hurt you. I'm nothing, remember?
Of course, that's the only reason they sent me here, because I don't exist. That way, if you ever dare tell anyone about what you saw, and about me, they'll never believe you. I can be as loud as a jet engine! Or I can be quieter than a sleeping child. I can be anything and everything in the world, and beyond it. But that doesn't matter now. All that matters is the fact that you can't tell anyone what you've seen.
After all, once I'm gone from you, you won't be able to conjure up any single image of what I am. And then they'll all think you're mad.
So if I were you, I'd stop trying to get away from me, and I'd listen to what I have to say. I've got a story to tell, and trust me, it gets interesting.
