He came into this world with a triumphant howl and as I cradled him in my arms I cried tears of joy. He left this this world for another realm and as I cradled his head once more I bent my head over him letting the tears of sorrow wash over his face.
When I was a child, hide-and-seek was my favourite game: I relished the thrill of being chased, and evading capture.
I killed him to keep that thrill alive, now the police are “it.”
There was a terrible malfunction on the flight, everything went black and I ended up here.
I’m covered in blood, screaming and I’ve got the terrible feeling I’m going to have to go through puberty again.
No matter what happened in the day I always seemed to end up at the graveyard.
I guess I must have died in that crash then huh?
A man jumped from the roof today, landing in a spray of cogs and springs and spurting oil.
His engine beat twice more then seized forever.
“You’re dead,” he breathes.
“I am,” I respond.
We found Mary dead in the morning and jealousy raged through the house for the rest of the day.
Jules, being the wasteful fool as usual, swallowed damn near a kilogram of arsenic although we told him that wasn’t Mary’s poison of choice.
Struggling for a muse did I stumble forth into the gibbering maw of the world. I fell into the Grave clutching the baby-blue journal that freed my soul and the brick that both chained It and mashed my head in.
A small smile played on his lips as he thought back to the moment he had taken her life and how it filled him with utter satisfaction to press his thumbs deep into her throat as she tried to cry out and how with each breath wasted on cries for help he would press his fingers tighter in a cold calculating squeeze until finally her body went lifeless filling him with the power of her death. His smile faded as he snapped out of his memories upon hearing the metal bars of his cage slide shut confining him for the rest of his natural life or until they decided if he was worthy of the needle.
A single tear slid down his cheek, uncomfortable emotions clogged his throat, and anger pulsed at the injustice of it all when the tiny, perfect hand clasped his finger. With a frustrated sigh, he hugged the baby close, stood, and cast a last look at the carnage that represented two ruined lives, before walking around the lifeless body and handing the precious bundle to the waiting social worker.
I’m scared of heights sometimes because when I was about ten I nearly fell off a cliff, which would have surely killed me.
Sometimes I wonder if that was one of those “killing some evil guy before he became evil” situations.
Every day the janitor put on a lab coat and walked the halls, comforting patients, family and friends.
The hospital dare not fire him because deaths have dramatically dropped.