I've been following "my" family a long time. So long ago, I
cannot even reach back far enough to remember when it all
began. From generation to generation, I have seen them get
married and reproduce, and I was always there with them when
they died. From the birth of the firstborn of the eldest
child to his death, wallowing in the dark of the night when
they and their loved ones died, always following the direct
blood line of the oldest sibling, be they male of female.
They never knew I was there. The only ones who occasionally
noticed were the children, but they quickly forgot once they
grew up. Creatures such as myself can't be seen, most of the
time. Often I wondered if I really existed, if I were not
just a figment of my own imagination.
Once I peered over the shoulder of one of the girls who read
books. I believe that was the first time I learned of a
concept humans call "emotion". Something that moves inside
of you, yet doesn't really move at all. It fills you up or
leaves you empty, or leaves you longing for more. It had
taken many years after that day to think over what it meant.
For a long time I walked around the house, following the
family, feeling something empty where my stomach should be.
It's strange how I always knew it was there, yet I did not
actually notice it until I saw him when they brought him
into the chamber. "In a coma," one of the females said as
she made sure the pillow was fluffed enough before they
gently rested his head on it. I was standing in front of the
curtain, the blinding rays of the sun shining through my
body, causing me to hurt slightly inside.
It was the first time in many years that had passed and
would pass that I became conscious of myself. No longer a
crying scream in the night, but an entity with a beat in her
chest. I put my arm to my left breast, surprised to learn
that it truly was beating, and I was not just imagining it.
He lay so still, his chest heaving up and down so gently
that for several seconds, he seemed a corpse. Who was he? I
patiently waited for the nurses and the rest of his family
to leave the room before I sat myself on his bed and put a
hand to his cheek. A far cousin, who's blood began to merge
away only a couple of generations ago. The son of the
youngest sibling who had moved away. No wonder I had no
memory of him. I had never seen him or his parents' birth.
Little did I know I would never see him die either.
That evening, the oldest living person of the household
passed away. I didn't want to leave the unconscious young
man alone, but duty called. I appeared by the old man's
deathbed, cold tears already running down from my cheeks. I
could feel the sorrow of the family around him, and it
stabbed my chest with full might. Years of "work" had still
not accustomed me to the pain that was required to let the
howl out in its true form.
And yet... Something had changed. I howled as the old man's
heart beat one last time, and fell onto the floor. I felt
weak, and short of air, which was peculiar since I did not
require breathing at all. Something was wrong inside of me,
and I could feel it.
I remained on the floor while they came to claim the body. I
remained on the floor as his wife broke into tears and wept,
only a few inches away from me. I remained on the floor as
they all left, leaving me alone. And as I remained on the
floor, all I could think of was the one who remained in his
bed. Had he somehow taken control of everything that went
through my mind? Why did I feel a... longing for him?
When dawn broke out, I forced myself to stand up. I could
not let a man play with me in such a manner! He was but a
mortal, and would most likely die shortly, while I would
never fade out of existence. I would never rot, and maggots
would soon begin to eat his flesh from the insides. I had to
force the images of him embracing me out of my head with
whatever little strength that I had.
I have always had a form, but it was transparent to most
people. I failed to notice that the more heat I felt in my
cheeks as those thoughts crossed my mind, did I become more
and more "visible".
This had gone too far!
I stormed back into his room, feeling a rush coursing
through my body. I had never attempted it before, but I knew
I could kill him. My voice was my weapon and my will was my
power, and no one who could shake me on the inside should be
allowed to remain alive! I would kill him! Force the life
out of him with my voice! Force the longing for his touch
out of my head! Force myself to return to the wailing
creature I was for such a long time before!
Leaping from the entrance of the door, I landed on his
chest, my legs sprawled one on each side, both my hands
grabbing his head. Little white snake-like threads fell onto
my face. I dropped him as I looked at them in surprise. I
had seen things like them before. The humans called it
"hair", and the females enjoyed putting it in all kinds of
weird shapes.
I could feel my eyes widening when I realized what covered
my face. But my heart, the one I had felt beating not so
long ago, seemed to have skipped a beat when I raised a hand
- MY hand! - to move the hair away. I shook my head and
grabbed the man again, my nails digging into the soft flesh
of his cheeks. I looked and opened my mouth, ready to give
the final wail.
And nothing came out.
I dropped his head again and grabbed my neck instead,
squeezing in disbelief. This could not be! I opened my mouth
again, attempting to scream.
Nothing.
Lowering my head, I could feel my tears again. They were not
cold as they had been every time they wept. They were warm,
and I could feel the trail they left down my face.
And then I saw he had opened his eyes. He smiled. And I drew
my first breath.
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.