I’m Back

I quietly slip through the window, silently closing and locking it behind me.

You are completely unaware that I am standing directly behind you. Your ignorance is so amusing.

I am tired of waiting for you to notice me. I swoop over your head, hovering an inch above the floor in front of you.

You look up at the sudden gust of wind and scream when your gaze meets mine. I grin.

It’s me.

I’m back.

That’s it, take in what you did to me.

My bleeding eyes, my neck bent at an unearthly angle, the red staining my ripped clothes. My pale, translucent face. How I can’t touch the ground anymore.

Look closely.

I want you to see.

You leap out of your chair and bolt for the door, but I’m so much faster now. I sink through the floor, then back out again in before you.

You screech to a halt and scramble back from me. If my lungs weren’t mangled, I would’ve laughed at your fear.

You hit the wall and frantically look around.

There’s nowhere to go.

You’re trapped.

You’re finally mine.

I float closer. I’m taking my time, your fear can only be experienced once. I want to enjoy it for all its worth.

Feel the fear as I reach out with a torn hand for your face.

My hand brushes your hair and it turns white, the same translucent color of my skin.

A smile stretches across my lips you had stitched shut so I could never call for help.

Feel all the pain you had conflicted on me.

Meet the fate you gave me.

Meet the one you deserve.

You scream in agony and collapse to the ground. I watch you writhe and howl as you feel everything you had done to me.

All the torture, all the pain.

After a while, your body lies still and cold as stone.

The scraps of the dead. Left for us ghosts.

But I don’t want that.

From your mangled form rises a clear figure, which takes the same shape as you were when you were living. Your gaze falls on me again and you freeze, your mouth open in a silent scream of horror.

My smile grows even further.

You flee for the door and zoom through it, trying desperately to get away.

You won’t be free of me now.

Not ever.

I soar after you, my only remaining feeling bent on making your afterlife as painful as my life had been.

There’s no “happily-ever-after” for you.

Ever.

 

Copyright by Amelia Jacobson

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