Ficlets

Death Receives a Request

I went to slide down the banister as I always did but then decided to take the stairs. Why not. I could feel the surge of rebellion beginning to rise within me, bubbling with possibilities.

I hadn’t reached the first landing when I heard a small voice cry out.

“Jeff, wait…”

I felt her tremulous presence behind me. I turned around warily. Sure enough, she was there. Only her eyes no longer blazed at me. It was as though someone had turned off a light in her.

“Where are you going?” she asked

I noticed for the first time how pale she was. Her skin was translucent, the raised veins like blue streams meeting at the confluence of her wrist. Her hair was a sharp contrast, raven black, blacker than black. It shone blue like a crow’s feathers.

“Why do you want to know?”

She ducked her head again, in what I was beginning to recognize was a habit of hers, and the sheaf of hair swung forward to hide her face.

Her next words came to me as though from a million miles away: “Take me with you. I want to go, too.”

View this story's 3 comments.