Him.
It’s him. He’s here for me again.
I remember that night, so long ago, when he first came. It was dark, and quiet, and all the things that upset the primal beast deep inside the souls of men and women. I was sitting in front of the fire mommy built, reading Curious George, wearing my favorite shoes, little white ballet flats. There was a knock on the door. Mommy said, “Hide, darling, hide in the closet.” And when I didn’t respond, she snapped at me. “Now!”
So I hid, and I watched. I watched as mommy walked towards the door, watched as she started to open it, and watched as he kicked it open, trapping mommy under the door. I watched, evan as he, dressed in a dark suit and overcoat, said something, whispered in mommy’s ear. And still I watched, now in horror, as his arm became elongated, narrow, tapered. And I watched... I watched as he reached down and impaled my mother's head through her open, screaming mouth.
And now he's back, and I know I'm in hell already. So I lock myself in the bathroom, open the medicine cabinet, and take the sleeping pills. One, two three, four. I keep swallowing them down, so eager to escape my reality, keep swallowing them, until I can't anymore. As I fade into blackness, I hear his sweet, cloying voice.
"See you in the next world, bitch."