Whyyyyyyyy do uuuuuuuuu keep on searchchchchchchING for the meanmeanmeanmeaning of LIFFFFFE in allllll the wroooonnnngggg plaaaaccccces, when you wokewokeWOKEwokewoke up breathBREATHEbreathing today? #asdfghjkl.

What day is it?

Are you SADANDLONELY and do you WORRRRRRY aboooouuuut toooomooooorowwwww?

Where are my pajamas?

How manymanymanymany probbbblems does a deaddeadDEADdeaddead person have??????

Why can’t I remember???

A shadow of a man floated into my room at 25:66 AM, running his dripping fingertips across the walls. His mouth extended, slowly, slowly, until it reached my ear. It plunged into the sea of wax and whispered, “The eggs are gone. You must get the bean toes.”

Uh Oh.

My fingernails shrunk in fear, like an anime character’s would do. My dark balls of sight wandered to the corner of the room, where the eggs laid in a pile. “Sir,” I paused to expand my thighs, preparing myself to get out of bed if needed, “The eggs are right there, in the corner. There is no need to take such drastic measures. I do believe you shou-” When I turned my head to look at him, he was gone. Knowing that the eggs were safe in the corner of my room, I shriveled up my thighs and went back to sleep.

“Stop.”

“No.”

“I dont wanna eat it.” She says, scrunching her nose.

“Do it.”

“But it’s gross!”

“Eat it” His voice would have scared anyone but her, he loved her and would never hurt her.

“You disgust me.” She says teasingly as he waves it in front of her and the smell makes her choke.

“Good, eat it.”

“I don't like meat.”

“You’ve never had this kind,” He replies with a laugh at her antics.

“Yeah cause it’s weird!”

“Come on!”

“Ugh fine.” She finally sighs, taking a reluctant bite of the meat pie.

“See? It’s good right?”

“I guess, what kind is it again?”

“The meat? Well... Uh, deer.”

“Where from?” She asks curiously, leaning forward. She isn’t sure where he would hunt, they lived in a very urban section of Eutopia.

“A place, with trees”

“Ah, I love trees. The last time I was saw a tree was... I was running from something.”

“Oh no, who?” His reply is slow and strange, his hand suddenly gripping the fork harder than before.

“Wait, it was you!”

“Oh, darling, why you gotta be so smart? You can’t get far anyway” He utters the last bit as she tried to leap from her chair, just to fall to the ground, her horrified gaze slowly trails down to her legs. Or where her legs should be.

“The meat pie. No, no, no, no” She tried to crawl away but he quickly lumbers towards her.

“I’m sorry darling, I really do love ya’. I’m just so hungry”

Morning stokes its coral coals

Sunlight’s footprints melt fresh snow

Crystal-laced, each bead, aglow

Drink of diamond treasures flow

Where ivy shades moss-covered rocks

Along creek beds, chilled water walks

A hollow trunk’s reflection stalks

Its image posed on living troughs

When daylight’s crest begins to fall

Clouds wrap colors in wool shawls

Mirror’s mellifluous wall

Conceals her hollow shell from all

CHOP CHOP CHOP!

HOT HOT HOT!

OUCH MY GOD DAMN FUCKING FINGER!

why am I here all day.

I dream of this all night.

My brain hurts.

I never eat, I can't sleep

Barely breathe.

Toasted sesame in my wounds,

lava spats cover my arms,

stress stress stress leaking out of me.

GIVE ME THAT NOW

STOP PRATTING AROUND

I'M IN CHARGE AND YOU'LL LISTEN TO ME

..please??

It was too soon to say 'I told you so', but that didn't stop Hayden from saying it. He said and did many, certainly, bizarre things – those things landing him right into the cold hands of an insane asylum. He didn't seem to mind it though, the room bright and splattered with post it notes in colors that made him happy. Yellow like puss, brown like frayed skin, and red like crying eyes! It could almost pass for a normal room for a normal boy. Almost.

Hayden wasn't normal, not by society standards, although have him tell it he’ll say otherwise.

When he said someone would die, they always did.

Some called him a prophet, others called him a murderer, and a small few passed it as coincidence. Somehow, it was still a shock that one of the nurses who attended to him was found dead in the hallway, wide eyed, mouth foaming, and skin sunken. People suspected that Hayden had done it himself, but the door was locked from the outside and there was no DNA on her body, let alone any physical marks at all.

So, it all came back to Hayden’s favorite line.

"I told you so.” He said, eating his breakfast. The news didn't affect him. He carried on as if he heard this everyday. Another day, another death. It wasn’t unusual. Why did people panic so much?

Of course, this made others wary to go near him, fearing they may be next, that somehow he was hexing them – a literal devils incarnate they liked to whisper under their breaths.

Others only interacted when instructed. Julian was a little different. He was intrigued. A newly graduated psychologist, barely on the field for more than six months, he was surprised when this job was proposed to him – probably because no one else would take it.

Hayden didn’t seem bad at all. His outfit was a little unusual, mismatching socks, a tilted hat, and sleeves that draped too long for his scrawny body. Julian didn't much care for his attire though, that wasn’t the issue at hand. He wanted to know how Hayden knew people would die.

He watched him eat the waffles on his plate, staring as one of his sleeves dipped into the pool of syrup.

“Your shirt is in your food.” Julian said.

Hayden looked. He shrugged.

"People never believe me when I tell them," he said, ignoring the statement, "They say I'm crazy, but am I really? I'm not the one who ends up dead on the floor."

Julian leaned forward in his seat. "What do you tell them when you say someone will die?"

Hayden bit into another forkful of food and swallowed. "It's the angels."

"Angels?" Julian repeated, "What do you mean angels?"

Hayden picked up the syrup bottle, pouring more of the thick liquid onto the batter. It was down right disgusting, but Julian wasn’t going to argue the eating habits of a supposedly insane man.

"They're angels, but not like typical angels. No porcelain skin and people singing behind them.” Hayden sighed. “They're a lot more grotesque and creepy. Most don't have eyes and some have a lot of hanging bits.” He paused, thinking about it. “I’m not entirely sure what’s even hanging, but it’s bubbling and oozing. They don't even look human half the time, just a jumbled mess of wrinkly and compressed organs."

Julian tilted his head. "And you see these things?"

"Yeah!" Hayden smiled. He said it like he was agreeing to get dessert after his meal, not like he saw monsters. "They're not malicious,” he clinked his fork a few times, "for the most part anyways. They follow people who they're about to take with them."

"Take them where?" Julian furrowed his brow. He had never heard anything so ludicrous.

Hayden smiled even bigger. "To hell."

Julian's jaw tightened as Hayden happily tapped his feet against the floor, savoring the final bits of his sugar with a side of waffles. Julian understood why so many had waved him off, but the next words made him freeze and heart stop.

Hayden glanced at him and then gazed towards the ceiling.

"...Which is where you're going to go soon. There's one behind you…”

I kissed you and you liked it. Your jaws fell apart under my lips. One hand slip across the mold growing on your occipital lobe. The other runs down your crumbling spine, stinging as a spider's fangs sink into my thumb. It's a brown recluse, the best kind. Its legs squirm as I pick it up in my mouth, and it bites my tongue as I swallow it down. I kiss you again, passionately, lovingly, your rough calcium bones shattering under the force of my affection. The spider and the worms I'd eaten earlier regurgitate onto your ribs. Heh, don't look so sternum. You need to eat, too, after all.

It hovered in the air above me. Across the room, its yellowish tendrils snaked towards me. It swam in the space between us, menacingly silent like a deadly jellyfish.

"What is that?"

In the dim light, I struggled to focus on its spiky body as it inched ever closer.

"What the fuck is that??"

It jerked forward. I jerked upright.

"Oh, damn!!"

My spouse, confused, looked over at me.

"What are you talking about??"

The words come out haltingly. "A...sand spider...is flying towards me."

He chuckles. "Go back to sleep, honey."

After a moment of thought, "Oh. OK."

Before It had gained sentience, It only knew hunger. Jaws snapping wildly, eyes peering from all over its body, constant babbling leaking from its orifices, all powered only by an unnatural appetite and the desire to satiate it. It had no real form, not unlike an amoeba. It’s only need was to shuffle through the caves and eat anything that moved… and anything that didn’t move.

However, something changed in It one day. Whether it was the consumption of its last meal or the screams that echoed from it that caused this is unknown, yet for some reason, It had a moment of clarity. If I looked like one of these legged things, It pondered, then maybe I could catch more things. More food would mean less worry, and less worry means more time shuffling around… and more eating. Mostly more shuffling, though.

Unfortunately, It had very little practice trying to be a bipedal form, let alone not eating anything bipedal; yet that didn’t stop It. Gathering up whatever energy it had, It tried to coalesce into a somewhat humanoid form.

It was a surprisingly strenuous effort, one that It had not expected, and it took itself a few tries before it could manage to even begin to morph into a human shape; yet after a few hours of trying, It was exhausted. It gave up, defeated by this failure, and sluggishly squelched back into its cavern.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as It tried to complete its metamorphic imperative. Attempts were constantly denied by hunger and shrieks, and It was almost ready to give. Yet something burned inside of it, and after months of failure, It tried one final time with resolve to mimic its last meal, a bipedal thing with some sort of hair. With all of its might, It dragged itself into a form similar to what it had hoped for. It was only for a few seconds, but it was the triumph It needed.

Finally, after eight months of horrid consumption and disgusting practice, It had finally figured out how to form itself. The result, while not perfect, was enough to disguise the outside world. With jerky movements and awkward wheezing, It shambled out of the cave and into the light, readying itself for a new future. It was finally time to start a new life as one of the unsuspecting creatures, as a thing with true form.

It was time to be an “Authentic Human.”

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_____________________________Death. Is. Life._____________________________

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