“Cut your wrists,” the demon says. “You’re better off dead.” It sounds plausible. He thinks of the loneliness, of how he hates himself, how he won’t be missed. The pain rises over him like an ocean, swallowing him whole. The blood flows; he realizes his mistake as the demon leaves him. But it’s too late.
Depression (microfiction)
Published by GhoulieJoe
I'm a mom who loves horror movies, the '80s, and the library. I write about the above three topics more than is healthy. I've got reviews, listicles, lil nonfiction pieces, and random bits of whutnot. I also included some pretentious as hell microfiction (don't worry, it's at the bottom). Because horror is life and vice versa. View more posts
GhoulieJoe 