I couldn’t help myself. It entangled me in it’s vice like grip. I couldn’t think for myself. It was a growth that had attached itself onto my brain. My thought’s had been obliterated. The words repeated in my head in a pulsating mutter: the key, the key. It’s killing me, crushing my soul. Soon I’ll just be alive; a shell of a child, nothing more than a body that I used to be. Now I’m so much more since the key. I have been different ; as time goes by I will become less and less like I used to be.