Nov 08


I walked down the cold lane, burying my face in my scarf to stay warm. It was snowing lightly and elegantly. The shops had just closed, and the only lights were on the park walks and the streets. There were very few cars on the road, and I sat on a bench to watch the cars pass by. I looked to the left, rocky mountains with snowy caps miles away. I centered my vision and saw you staring back at me from the other side of the street. Your auburn hair flowing in the quiet wind. Your eyebrows deepened into your forehead as the wind began to howl. Your sleveless, pink dress barely moved in the intense wind as you stepped closer and closer into the road. Finally, you reached me, and sat beside me on the bench.

"Spencer. Why are you alone?"

Your voice was raspy but held genuine interest, so I decided to talk to you. Just this once.

"My date never showed up." I turned to you. "And you? Why are you here?"

"Because you're sad. I always come when you're sad. That's the rules. How's your sickness? Are you better? Am I coming home?"

"Worse, no, and no. You show up every night."

"Because you're sad every night."

"Why is your voice so raspy?"

The smile faded from your face.

"You know why." Your tone was defensive. You'd never talked to me like this before.

"I have to go. This is the last time we talk."


"Because I'm finally gonna start taking my meds."

"How's mom?"


You looked down at your bare feet, shaking them back and forth.

"No, she's not. She told me to remind you to take the soup off the stove. Dead people don't talk, y'know."

I sighed and stood up.

"No, she told you that 5 years ago. It' s been 5 years since you both died. Your voice is raspy because you were strangled to death, and Mom visits me on good days, cooking fake food or cleaning. She doesn't talk to me much, so of course she talks to you."

Tears filled my eyes.

"You're both fake!" I shouted.

"We'll see."

You ran away into the dark as the pixels dissapeared. The white walls were revealed as I was helped off of the treadmill. Before the injection I vowed to escape for you.