Wraith Short Story
Added 2022-05-02 22:25:41 +0000 UTCWraith won the April poll, so here is their short story. It's short and perhaps a bit cryptic, but that is the nature of someone who can't even remember their own name.
It's cold, but that's normal.
It's dark and endless and an utter void, and all of those things are normal, too.
At least, it used to be. Then their world was shattered with light and they were dragged into your nightmares and eventually your life, though they're not certain there's much of a separation.
You don't know they're there, but they are and they're watching. You look sad so often, they wish they could change that but you don't even know they exist.
They wish desperately that they could speak. Grab your attention just long enough for that light to shine directly on them. Maybe then they'd feel the warmth again, the warmth they haven't felt in so long.
All they remember from life is the pain of needles and scalpels, the harsh scent of antiseptic, the slow beeping of machines that haunted their every waking moment. They've become more of a ghost of their circumstance than a ghost of themselves; they can't even remember their own name.
They know your name, though. They think they know some of your pain, too, if that could be possible. Your souls, both tattered and worn, seem to be made of similar material.
They hope they can save you, in the end. They know you deserve it, they just have to figure out how. How do they save a person destined to die? How do they save a person whom death lingers with so intimately?
They'll try, though. That's all they've ever done, and that's all they know how to do.
