What follows me is a creature of darkness, frail, but stronger than me. I've never seen its face, though I've imagined it's lifeless eyes. It never leaves me only fading during the times of light, returning stronger. It crawls on my skin and whispers in my ear a scratchy voice more aggravating than nails on a chalkboard. I beg it to leave. It stays.
It has a name, one that mustn't be spoken. For it causes a stir in others around me, who believe its existence is only a myth. I try to get them to see to help me. They say the darkness is nothing more than a shadow, that it's not to be worried about and will eventually fade. Their words don't lessen its grip on me only send it into a fit of hysterics. Could my imagination create a creature so volatile? The mirrors are lying when I see my reflection. For the sharp teeth it has shouldn't have left marks on my arm if it was only a myth.
Helpless! They call me for they once fought it off. That was before it took hold of your heart.
Desperate! They say for who goes so far for attention. I haven't a clue but it sure isn't me. I'm just a hopeless trying to survive.
My pleas with it once left an impression. Now I'm dependent on its pressure. What caused it to flea, though only so quickly, has become its second prey. It is with me and it never leaves, though ugly and violent, with screeching to keep me awake for hours, I wouldn't know how to act without it.
YOU ARE READING
The Anchor
Short StoryA collection of original short stories and poems. Most using extended metaphors and figurative language to express emotions. I apologize for any grammatical errors, feel free to kindly alert me in the comments.
