I startled awake to a blank wall and knots in my throat and knots in my stomach and a woman of blanched bones and frail frame slithered and writhed in the doorway.
“I want to disappear,” she hissed like a toppled truck with her charred eyes in her sleet face with her busted lips. “I want to make them forget me.”
I startled awake to a dirge of a cavern, eyes barely adjusted to the darkness.
“I want to disappear,” Blanche cried and grabbed a fistful of my hand with clammy paws. “I want to sigh out the pain until my lungs puncture and my throat burns from the inside out.”
She cackled and let me go with her wicker fingers and fell back into a black abyss.
I startled awake to the funeral, but Blanche staved me off from the casket. The air was heavy, and I collapsed from the suffocation. She withered her way to me, touching my arm quietly and whispering:
“Make me disappear.”
He startled awake to a new city underneath a different name and killed himself quietly in a dirty motel.
“I want to disappear,” hissed graphite like a toppled truck. “Make me disappear.”
tagged as: suicidal storytellers. prose. horror. fiction.