Title: Abracadavers
Theme:
82 – Ghosts
Summary:
Monsters are real. Ghosts are real, too. They live inside us. And sometimes, they win.
Rating:
T
Genre:
Angst/Horror
Notes: Pre-canon.


Maybe there's a logical explanation for this. Then again, maybe there isn't. That's just it; I'm going crazy. There is no other explanation.

It's a demon, or a bad spirit, or an evil ghost. How can I fight that?

Maybe it came from all of the Stephen King novels I've been reading. Maybe it's a side effect of my head being knocked around by bullies so many times that it started to screw with some important lobes, or one hemisphere of my brain started shifting around. Maybe this is one of the side effects to me being a premature birth, that my mind didn't fully develop or something, and this is what happens as a result.

But I'm not crazy.

I'm sick of 'maybe's – I want a decent answer. But I can't figure it out on my own, and I can't go to anyone with this. There's something inside me. How do I even begin to explain that?

There's something inside me. Something cruel and vicious that's killing other people. I can't control it. I don't know why it's here or why it's doing the things it is.

It hasn't done anything bad to me – physically, anyway. It's scared the living daylights out of me, but I haven't ever talked or communicated with it, and I don't intend to start now. This spirit has killed… so many. I don't want to start counting. I don't want to be next.

Did I bring this upon myself?

I'll just drop unconscious, randomly, wherever – in the street, in an arcade, at school. Anywhere.

Is this punishment for something?

And then I'll wake up drenched in blood.

I don't want to end up in an asylum.

Sometimes I hallucinate. Sometimes I see the blood still on my hands when I've already rubbed my skin raw.

I'm not crazy. I promise.

Sometimes my shadow reaches out from the wall and tries to touch me.

I'm not.

Sometimes I let it.

Monsters are real. Ghosts are real, too. They live inside us. And sometimes, they win.


Words: 340