u/kylarius

A day of just the boy and his father, running, playing catch, even a tickle fight today. Now he's sitting with his father. They're watching a movie. A blonde demon sings about letting go of her restraint, condemning her kingdom to starvation. They've watched it enough I can startle them immediately when the orchestra stops. Here it comes and... I knock the lamp over right next to little Kevin.

"What the hell, kid? What did you do?"

"It wasn't me, dad. It was him. The hanging man."

"Enough of your nonsense. Don't move. I gotta clean this up before you hurt yourself."

"He's right there dad!"

Now he sees me, pointing directly at me, eyes wild at his father's suggestion that I'm imagined. The father spins, his eyes searching for a fight. Seeing nothing, his eyes widen for a moment. The scent is delicious.

"Careful. If he thinks you're crazy, he'll send you away. Then we can play more."

"But I'm not crazy. He loves me. He'd never send me away."

The father looks lost, "Who are you talking to? And don't tell me some tall tale about a man from the ceiling."

"You have no choice. You must tell your father that you knocked the lamp over now."

"I do have a choice. Dad, I'm not lying there really is a man. How can you not see him?"

The father storms off. His agitated stomps marking the way to the kitchen.

"You boys are so troublesome at this age. I once knew a boy who..."

I study him while I talk, demanding his attention. How do I break him tonight.

He looks towards the kitchen and I wag my finger at him.

"Buhtuhtuh. Your father told you not to move. It's just you and me."

"If you would just show him that you're real he wouldn't be mad at me."

"But why would I want to do that? We have so much fun together, you and I."

"Because you're my friend and I'm asking you to."

A smile breaks my face, flakes falling from the cracks. The boy startles, eyes bewildered. My rotting teeth glint back at me from his eyes.

"It's precisely because I'm your friend that I can't show myself to him."

His father walks back into the room, muttering about ghosts and boys being boys. My tail creaks against the ceiling as I lumber over to him, reaching out a talon scratching the man's neck. The skin turns blue where I drag the tip.

"Hey! I told you not to move! What window did you leave–" He swings around and looks directly through me.

The boy starts to cry.

"Huh? Kevin it'll be–"

"Stop that. I was just proving that even when I touch him, he refuses to see me. So why don't we go upstairs and have some fun? Just you and me, I and you, the two of us. Alone. Better not to respond until we get there."

"Dad, can I go play in my room?"

"Kevin, I'm sorry I got upset. Just let me finish cleaning the glass and we can finish our movie."

"No. I WANT MY ROOM."

"THEN GO."

The rollercoaster of emotions that was today will taste fantastic.

"Move along now. Let's go upstairs, my friend. I'll make it all better. You'll feel numb, then we'll play some more and you'll forget all about how mean your dad is. Good. Now close the door."

My body betrays me. Hands shaking, I can barely hold the scalpel. Brow sweating, I'm damn near leaking onto this fellow. Mouth dry, I can feel every swollen taste bud dragging on my lips. Pupils dilated, I can see every goosebump on his body. And it's all mine.

Tied down and gagged, Lewis Carmichael was a bad, bad, bad man. He deserves this. Oh, what a sight it will be. Maybe I just poke a bit, see what gets the best reaction.

"Mr. Scalpel, just where do you belong?"

"That thigh looks tasty."

"Kersplat! Um, Mr. Scalpel you're supposed to come out... Ooooh wait, I see you brought friends to this party."

13 knives. Each bigger than the last. And now the party's over. Lewis looks like a pincushion.

"This sucks. How DARE you! You don't get to die that quickly."

I plunge the epinephrine into his thigh, jumping and clapping as his eyes shoot open and his body begins to convulse.

I grab my popcorn. Chomping away as I watch the greatest show on Earth.

"Welp, that's over. I think his wife will be lonely now. Buuuut, I could use a new friend."

Taking my gloves off, I lift my porcupine friend's head laying his pillow underneath. I walk to the dryer, pulling the new warm quilt I made. Tucking my new best friend in, I kiss his forehead, pushing his hair behind his ears. Now that he's napping peacefully, my espresso machine is calling for me.

"Yes, yes, my dear. Terribly tiring making that man look more attractive. You're the only one who gets me."

I live alone.

I visit his grave, leaving the flowers he used to give me.

I live alone.

I throw away his empty pill bottles.

I live alone.

Eyes red, I wish him home.

I live alone.

His giggle interrupts the TV.

I live alone.

I wake to a tickle across my toes.

I live alone.

My coffee mug is waiting, full, after my shower.

I live alone.

A line of dirty left footprints lead to my bedroom, stopping at the door.

I live alone.

His cold breath caresses my neck.

I live alone.

He shampoos my hair, his fingers cold.

I live alone.

Tomorrow the footprints find their pair.

I live alone.

The pill bottles are on the counter again.

I live alone.

I wake holding the ring he was buried with.

I live alone.

His pills are in my hand.

I live alone.

There's a knife in my pillow.

I live alone.

My bed holds no warmth.

I live alone.

3 bottles of wine are finished.

I live alone.

Dirty footprints from the room to me on my couch.

I live alone.

His giggle is right next to me.

I live alone

His weight adorns me.

I die alone.