I+shall+call+him+Squishy,+and+he+shall+be+mine.+And+he+shall+be+my+Squishy

I found him under my bed. My mom sent to my room because I would not eat my squash. "I don't like squash", I said. Mom did not like the way I told her as she looked up from her plate. My feet began to shake and my body somehow joined in. I tried to hold back the words but somehow my mouth opened and out flew I hate SQUASH. Why do we need to eat it anyway?

The next scene was me sitting on my bed with my stomach growling. It was really mad at me now. We were having chocolate cake for dessert and here I sit with an empty stomach. Then I looked over and I saw this brown mass sitting at the edge of my bed. It was soft and moldable. It felt like chocolate pudding. I called it Squishy.

I decided to find something to occupy my time. What could I do? I was angry and knew that i needed to get the anger out of me. I touched the gooey stuff and then took a handful. i wound up and threw it at my image in the mirror. Stupid me.