Short Story Time: Plead

My demons want to play with yours.

They want to tear their way out of my pale flesh and fly into your eye sockets, poke around in your soul, and throw a bloody tea party.

She was curled up in a little ball on her bed, face buried in the cage of her arms. The bony points of her knees didn’t make for the most comfortable pillow, but she had neither the energy to move or care. It was quiet and cold in the room, her phone sat on the mattress next to her. She waited. And waited.

It was pathetic really, to sit around waiting for someone to care about her and find out if she still breathed. People had their own problems, they didn’t have time to worry about hers. And she didn’t blame them, either, she didn’t want to worry about her issues. It would be best if they just disappeared. If she disappeared.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t see the pattern - her thoughts were taking on a particularly dark twist and the spiral began to curve around her, pulling her down into it’s depths. She could see it happening. Powerless to stop it. Just like always.

But the last time she’d gone on a dark journey through the broken forest of her own mind it hadn’t killed her. This one wouldn’t pick her off either, it was just going to suck. A lot.

Bzzt!

A sharp inhale.

Bzzt!

That was definitely her phone. She lifted her head, gazed at the blinking red light that indicated a message. Probably nothing important. She didn’t want to help her friend pick out a stupid movie to watch. She didn’t care who was bored at work. Really, there was only one person who’s message would matter in that split second.

She ignored it. Retreated inside again. At least those blackened, wispy trees didn’t ask her pointless questions about how best to spend one’s Friday evening. They just stood there, looming over her. Because they already knew how she was spending her evening.

Brrring, brrring!

It was ringing this time. With a sigh, she snatched the damn thing up and was about to toss it across the room when a name flashed on the screen. That name. The only one that mattered.

Accept the damn call, her voice of reason pleaded.

“Hello?”

“....Are you okay?”

“No.”

“I’ll be there soon.”