She is the Ghost in the Sheets.

The child who wanders, dressed in a cheaply-made halloween
costume, from door to door. Openly displaying her shame in
return for hard candy, a childhood prostitution.

The child who, from those days of dread, never grew up. A
demented woman whose sole virtue lies in the ability to
imagine it all away, and be forgotten the moment she leaves
the room. Who spent all her life avoiding the needle of the
so-titled sane, the tranquilisation of all that once was and
forever won't be real.

The girl who, after too much thought invested in the
percieved reality, lives within her own world. Lost within
the nightmares and shadows that lie underneath her eyelids,
and the sugary dreams that cause her to vomit on awakening.
Lies are greasy to swallow, and harder yet to digest.

The one who will be laughing once you wake.

Laughing and laughing and laughing...

Because you thought you were the sane one.