Darling

”Darling. I’m waiting for you.” Waiting for me to what? To just decompose one night under the stars, safely tucked beneath my linens?

The Nurse’s sudden appearance had caused me to ponder her existence in the laundry room. I haven’t asked this creature for her name. Her image makes too much of a mess of my mouth. It’s like she vacuums out all of my liquid. But she isn’t dangerous. She hasn’t ghosted into my room and smothered me with hands that never existed.

“Why are you here?” I asked, sitting atop the washing machine. This was my pondering spot. It felt safe here. Here, she wouldn’t haunt me with red heels and deep, perfect lips.

“A wise man once said, ‘Death is a debt we all must pay.’ I’m merely the collector,” her voice echoed throughout the basement, but I saw no tangible trace of her nursing attire. The sharp smell of cinnamon suddenly pierced my nostrils.

“You’ve come to kill me. Why not just do it already?” I replied, my tongue screaming out in silent agony for saliva. The Nurse had stolen that pleasure from me.

“Because. Eventually, you will pay that debt, darling.”

It was silent. And then, in a violent gust, she was gone. The smell evaporating with her.