Flash Fiction February 2023 — Day Three

Prompt: Lingering Spirit

You’re within the walls. You linger in every piece of shattered glass, in every hole in the drywall, in every scuff and dent. You’re still here, even now, long after the new paint and drywall and wallpaper tried to erase the damage. Pretty pastels don’t erase the scars of the holes you left, you know. Every time I repaired them, you would just make new holes, anyway.

You’re within the floorboards. In every creak and groan of the house, straining underneath you. Not even the strongest wood could support you, in the end. And even now, whenever I hear the house strain under heavy feet, my heart cannot help but pound. Because even when it isn’t you — after all, it can’t be, anymore — what those heavy footsteps brought still haunts me in my sleep.

You’re within the darkness. In every shadow and whisper from the unknown. Is that you, lurking in the dark corners of my bedroom? Or is it the creature born from you, twisted and distorted into a living nightmare by the darkness that lurks within my own mind? It doesn’t matter, either way. I’ve long grown used to your dead-eyed stare, the rivulets of blood and gore that runs down your face and drips over your pale, bloated body.

You’re within the light. In every hole, scar, and reminder, no matter how small. All it takes is one, before I’m sent down the spiral once again. You didn’t used to be here. The light used to be safe. But now it seems, even with every light in the house on, I still see you when I’m awake. Not even the brightness can chase you away. And still, your dead eyes stare, accusing, full of the hatred that defined your life.

You’re within me. In every scar and memory. You’re in every moment I lay awake at night, watching you watch me with those hateful eyes. You’re in every action that causes me to flinch. You’re in every reminder that, though you may not be able to hurt my body, the damage you did to my soul remains. The pain was brief, but the scars will last for so much longer.

You’re within their hearts. Within all the people that loved the façade. But I know the truth; that you never showed the real you to anyone but me, because no one could ever love the monster within. The pitiful creature that now crouches in the corner of my room every night. They don’t know the monster, but I did. And I’m grateful they never will.

You’re within my basement, where you’ll never, ever hurt anyone again.