Flash Fiction, “Morning Routine”

I climb out of bed five minutes before anyone else so I won’t be late. Never again. As I walk up to the platform, I see them waiting for me. They do not stand for they do not have legs, rather they float a few inches off the ground before their transparent ghastly cloud begins to form.They could not grab me since they have no arms, but they can do much, much worse. I avoid their gaze, a gaze that mirrors my own, as I step up to the platform, naked, before the specters. They gaze at me with a dry smile and begin to circle me, examining my exposed skin, looking for any cuts or scratches that weren’t there yesterday. I can feel a mark I made last night burning on my upper left shoulder blade. It’s about half a centimeter wide and 2 inches long, easily visible. One of the ghostly figures finds it and calls the others over in their crude language. They gaze upon it and smile evilly. Then, one circles around to my face and looks me in the eye, about an inch from my face. I can feel it’s cold demeanor on my skin, making me shiver from it’s cold. It’s blue eyes, my blue eyes, look back at me and gives me a smile that looks too much like my own, but more broken. The wretch then looks at my nostrils and dives in, causing my heart a pain so unbearable my breathe is stolen and I cannot scream. The others follow it’s entrance, and when they are gone, I collapse the ground and try to ignore their voices in my head. After a while, I force myself up and make my way to my closet to get ready for the upcoming day. Tomorrow, I will give my demons nothing to laugh about. I will be strong today.


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