In the beginning, when I first came to live with the family, I was on my best behavior. I did my work well and felt that I was truly loved. They gave me my own space, and it was very comfortable. I had sitting room and the proper environment to exist comfortably. I was able to function at the top of my mark and worked diligently for over a year.

I tried to behave, really, I did.

I wanted to be good. Gradually, however, little by little, I would do something nasty. I just couldn't control myself. I didn't do as I was told; went my own way. Small things would start to disappear. Nothing that would be specifically noticed; just enough to make them feel that something, they didn't know what, was amiss.

Finally, so much around me went missing, I did so many things wrong, they didn't know what to expect next. They were going to expel me from the only real home I have ever known. They'd give me one more chance, then another. But something possessed me; I couldn't stop misbehaving. When it came to the last minute, when they were ready to toss me out, they found out that I wasn't doing these awful things because I wanted to do them any harm, but because I was very, very ill.

My family didn't know what to do. At first, they still wanted me gone, but they were good hearted people. They couldn't just abandon me if I was truly sick. They tried everything they knew to cure me, to make me better. All types of experts were called in, and a little improvement was noticed. Finally, I was doing well enough to continue my life. I did my best, behaved and was allowed to remain with the family.

But once again, soon enough, as if I were possessed, I started losing bits and pieces of things. Once again it was small enough not to be noticed, until the time larger items began to vanish. I knew I was really in trouble. It was either be ousted from my cozy room and be replaced or go for some real long-term therapy.

Therapy it was. I was shipped far away from home and family. I was examined by experts in the field and with every form of modern technology. First, I was checked out externally. They found nothing to cause such problems. Then they opened me up and scanned all my insides, removing a number of infected organs. I was given transplants, replacement parts throughout my internal structure, and some of these transplanted parts were better than any I had had before.