A little 6 year old boy sat in his bed. He held on to his bed covers tightly, crying in the dark. His closet door was left open and his monster in his closet was making fun of him. Telling him his friends only pretending to care for him, that his parents hate him, he would never find his true love.

This kept happening for 2 months, but one night, when the taunting began. He heard a voice "What do you know about his life? Are you there to watch him? To see how is friends help him? To see his parents care for him when he's ill?"

The monster was taken back by the sudden jeer from a princely boy that stood at the end of the boys bed. Now, this is scary as is, but having the boy look just like the boy in the bed was enough to set the monster on edge.

"Well, what is a five year old going to do about it? Cry? Cry until his mommy comes and 'saves him' for one night?" The monster retorted. The boy in the bed wanted to do that. Wanted to alert his mother of the other in the room along with the monster.

"We aren't five, we're six! And quite sick of you!" The princely boy ran at the monster with a sword that formed in his hand.

WHO GAVE THAT KID A SWORD?

The boy swung at the monster, cutting its chest. The monster doubled over in pain. The monster disappeared after a while of laying around on the floor.

"Who are you?" The boy in the bed asked, finally over his shock. The other boy looked over at him.

"Why, I'm your creativity, Thomas! I came to save you from that awful monster!" 'Creativity' cheered.

"Aren't you supposed to be in my mind? You know, making dreams and stuff? Also, why do you still work if you're not in my head?" Thomas' questions were answered with a shrug and nothing more.

"Just know that you'll have good nights sleep for now on and you'll never have to deal with that monster again! Good night!" Creativity sank down into the floor.

Thomas, still questioning what happened, went to sleep and had pleasant dreams.

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Now, Thomas is 15. He's just starting high school and realizing that he wasn't like everyone else. All the boys went after cheerleaders, well Thomas gazed at the football players longingly.

Thomas was picked on for this. The name 'faggot' seemed to follow him around the school. His creativity & morality would come to speak with him after every single day of school, saying that the other students were just being stupid.

One day, when Creativity and Morality were going to talk to Thomas, they saw something forming in the lounge part of the mind palace. Logic had stopped to look at what was happening too.

There was a dark purple smoke swirling around in the middle of the room, and once it cleared up, they saw a new trait, wearing all black laying curled up on the floor. Morality was the first to enter the room.

"Hey kiddo, are you alright?" He asked, leaning down to get a closer look at the new trait. This new trait sat up, rubbing his head, and looking up at Morality.

From the door way, Logic and Creativity could see that this new trait had really dark eyeshadow on. This trait look kind of dead, to be honest.

"Well, my name is Patton, but you can call me dad! What's your name?" Patton said putting out his hand for this new trait to take.

The new trait took the father figure hand and pulled himself up.

"Anxiety."

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With Anxiety being around, the others had to make adjustments throughout the years. They would try to be more social to overcome Anxiety, but Logic said it was against Thomas' introvert nature.

Theses years were full of trying to push Anxiety back into being a minor trait instead of a main trait. Creativity, or Roman, would be the one that would always be trying to get rid of him, saying that Anxiety was the reason they were failing at everything.

Of course, Patton and Logan knew that they weren't always the innocent ones in every situation, but Roman was to blinded by his honor to realize that his words had consequences. That his words were like knives stuck deep into Anxiety's skin.

That his words were the reason that sobs echoed down the corridor to Anxiety's room late at night. That Roman himself was becoming a villain in Anxiety's eyes.

This continued until the day Anxiety came so close to snapping that he had locked himself in his room. He had figured that it was better for Thomas.

But of course, we all know how that went. We all know how they had shown how much they had cared for him. How he wasn't always the villain. How much he meant to all of them. Even Roman.

They're all getting along fine now, and it will stay that way, The en-

The story teller was cut off by the man above spamming his fist down on the handle of his throne. "The has got to be the most idiotic thing I've ever heard! No good traits would ever, ever, ever except a Bad trait! It's unheard of! You know how much I hate Non-Fiction stories!"

"B-but sir!-"

"I demand you to find a real story and not this sappy trash-"

"T-t-this is a true story!"

The throne room went quite as the man on the throne stared down at the story teller, trying to tell if he was joking.

"Who is this man that has these traits?"

"T-t-Thomas S-s-sanders, sir."

"And who is his Anxiety?"

"V-V-Virgil, sir."

The man sat up at the name. He swore he had heard it before. Ah! One of the Deceits had mention a defective Anxiety that went by Virgil.

"We shall fix him, but we shall wait until one of the good traits do something to him that would break their friendship."

Nothing stays perfect forever.