you need to know that you’re in for the fight of your life
you need to know that you’re in for the fight of your life
--
When he looks up, he’d like to say that the he’s surprised the sun’s down and there are already so many stars up above. He’d like to say that he’s surprised he’s alone again tonight; everyone had given him a wide berth today. He knows, god does he know, how difficult he is to handle. He’d also like to say, in the deepest depths of his person, that he’s not hurt.
At least, he hopes so.
He takes another swig of alcohol from the bottle he’s brought with him. It tastes wrong, too exposed for too long- he should really remember to put on the cap, and he feel like retching his guts out. Instead what he does is take a longer gulp, and maybe it’s enough to drown out everything.
He releases a breath, sees it fog up, and laughs at how gross his breath smells. He’s about to take one more gulp of alcohol when it’s grabbed out of his hand and out of his reach. He’s about to shout in protest when he notices it’s a beautiful lady who had grabbed it.
She takes a gulp of his drink too and coughs it out. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You have a horrible taste.” She says, but holds the bottle to her chest.
“Give that back,” He says, glares at the lady. Though she’s lovely, she’s being rude.
She smirks at him, shakes her head, and runs off. He gives chase, of course. But he’s still a little out of it, wobbles as he stands up and starts chasing her. He almost trips multiple times and all she does is laugh and laugh, constantly out of his reach.
“You’re crazy, lady!” He shouts, though he’s smiling and it seems like he’s having fun.
He startles though when the lady throws his bottle to the side, and he’s about to go after it, only the lady grabs his hand and pulls him along.
They run and run, run around the park, through the kids’ areas now abandoned and creepy at night. Run through and see benches empty except for the abandoned trash around it. She looks back at him multiple times, smiles at him kindly, and it’s almost like she’s doing him a favor.
When they’re out of breath, the lady lets go of his hand and they stop to pant and wheeze.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” She asks with a smile, though she looks like she’s close to collapsing.
He looks at her like she’s crazy. All she does in response is to reach out a hand, and he takes it anyway.
They lace their fingers together as they walk more sedately. They come across a road, abandoned for now like everything in the night, and move to go across it.
She stops, and he pulls at her hand, tugs to ask what’s wrong. She’s looking down, her hair shadowing her face, and he knows that this is enough.
“Well,” he says awkwardly, maybe a little sad, “I had fun.”
She nods her head, her hair still like curtains to her face. She moves closer and he’s a little creeped out; he’s read stories about this multiple times, of ghost girls out for a vengeance.
But then she looks up, and she’s still the girl he saw a while ago so he sighs in relief. She smiles at him and places a hand on his chest.
She gives a gentle push.
“You’re it,” she whispers. She turns and twirls, pirouettes her way off the road. Her skirt flutters around her, and she almost looks like a flower.
He’s stunned to silence and he can’t get himself to move.
When she’s facing him again, she’s still smiling. But this time, it’s more sinister. “You’re it,” she mouths and something big and painless hits him on the side.
The accident leaves him in half, abandoned on the road like everything in the night. In his last moments, he does not see the girl on the other side. But there is a person standing there, and he’d like to say he would call for help if he knew this wasn’t a hopeless situation.
The person smiles at him, familiar.
They’re wearing a suit, not a cloak; holding a knife covered in blood, but there is no scythe.
--
When he looks up, he’d like to say that the he’s surprised the sun’s down and there are already so many stars up above. He’d like to say that he’s surprised he’s alone again tonight; everyone had given him a wide berth today. He knows, god does he know, how difficult he is to handle. He’d also like to say, in the deepest depths of his person, that he’s not hurt.
At least, he hopes so.
He takes another swig of alcohol from the bottle he’s brought with him. It tastes wrong, too exposed for too long- he should really remember to put on the cap, and he feel like retching his guts out. Instead what he does is take a longer gulp, and maybe it’s enough to drown out everything.
He releases a breath, sees it fog up, and laughs at how gross his breath smells. He’s about to take one more gulp of alcohol when it’s grabbed out of his hand and out of his reach. He’s about to shout in protest when he notices it’s a beautiful lady who had grabbed it.
She takes a gulp of his drink too and coughs it out. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You have a horrible taste.” She says, but holds the bottle to her chest.
“Give that back,” He says, glares at the lady. Though she’s lovely, she’s being rude.
She smirks at him, shakes her head, and runs off. He gives chase, of course. But he’s still a little out of it, wobbles as he stands up and starts chasing her. He almost trips multiple times and all she does is laugh and laugh, constantly out of his reach.
“You’re crazy, lady!” He shouts, though he’s smiling and it seems like he’s having fun.
He startles though when the lady throws his bottle to the side, and he’s about to go after it, only the lady grabs his hand and pulls him along.
They run and run, run around the park, through the kids’ areas now abandoned and creepy at night. Run through and see benches empty except for the abandoned trash around it. She looks back at him multiple times, smiles at him kindly, and it’s almost like she’s doing him a favor.
When they’re out of breath, the lady lets go of his hand and they stop to pant and wheeze.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” She asks with a smile, though she looks like she’s close to collapsing.
He looks at her like she’s crazy. All she does in response is to reach out a hand, and he takes it anyway.
They lace their fingers together as they walk more sedately. They come across a road, abandoned for now like everything in the night, and move to go across it.
She stops, and he pulls at her hand, tugs to ask what’s wrong. She’s looking down, her hair shadowing her face, and he knows that this is enough.
“Well,” he says awkwardly, maybe a little sad, “I had fun.”
She nods her head, her hair still like curtains to her face. She moves closer and he’s a little creeped out; he’s read stories about this multiple times, of ghost girls out for a vengeance.
But then she looks up, and she’s still the girl he saw a while ago so he sighs in relief. She smiles at him and places a hand on his chest.
She gives a gentle push.
“You’re it,” she whispers. She turns and twirls, pirouettes her way off the road. Her skirt flutters around her, and she almost looks like a flower.
He’s stunned to silence and he can’t get himself to move.
When she’s facing him again, she’s still smiling. But this time, it’s more sinister. “You’re it,” she mouths and something big and painless hits him on the side.
The accident leaves him in half, abandoned on the road like everything in the night. In his last moments, he does not see the girl on the other side. But there is a person standing there, and he’d like to say he would call for help if he knew this wasn’t a hopeless situation.
The person smiles at him, familiar.
They’re wearing a suit, not a cloak; holding a knife covered in blood, but there is no scythe.