|true it is
Author: Whisper on the Lips PM
ain't nothing round here, 'cept for the dark and the rats. they're my only friends, i suppose and that's something to be grateful for.Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Crime - Words: 563 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 12-07-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2749393
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
true it is
there's a squelching noise as another one the nasty little buggers winces in pain and dies. his cohorts nibble on my toes, just a snack, just a taste of what's to come. i kick out my foot, sending them scurrying away. not yet, my friends, i'm not dead yet you furry little monsters.
i have to keep reminding them, my friends. they're just as eager for me to leave as i am.
"trust me," i whisper to their skinny little ears, "i don't like it any more than you do."
i don't like it all but it's something i'm growing accustomed to. dark's not all the bad really, the darker it is the clearer i can see their gleaming red eyes. sorta becoming comforting to know someone's watching out for me. not the way you were, at night, peepin' in the window, i saw. but no, these little bastards are right next to me reminding me i'm alive. for now at least.
and i certainly don't mind the way the noise is becoming all quiet like. used to miss the noise, i did, meant help was nearby. but now all this quiet means your gone, and that's something i can be grateful for. means you ain't yelling at me again, telling me to do awful stuff.
course, wouldn't it just be grand if i could have a few more inches to myself. tis getting awful cramped in here, these blokes just keep crawlin' all over me. can't hardly raise my pinky finger, this box is near as big as me, if not smaller. makes every inch of these bruises sore again, another painful reminder of why i'm here. this bastard here, wiggling down me arm, i'll name him jimmy, just like you. he's sniffing my finger, seeing if it's good meat, i guess. o'course it is, you thought i was good meat didn't you? if one rat thought so, these others ought to take his words. jimmy and his friends, awful chaps won't stop moving. and here i can't budge an inch nearly six feet under.
nearly lost myself for a minute there, woke up in a state of panic not breathing. wonder if i'll get used to waking up with no air. you certainly scared me first time i woke up with your fingers on my throat. now i'm waking up with their itty bitty claws. ain't much difference, i suppose. next time i may not even go to the trouble of waking back up.
all in all, i reckon these bastards are the only friends i got left now. you've gone and left me for good, and here i told you- no, i promised i would stop fighting back. that's how it goes.
…someone's always leaving…
hardly anyone comes by anymore.
makes me awful sorry to be so angry at jimmy here and all his bastard co-horts. sorry, mates, guess you're the only friends i got after all. even then, everything fades to black.
"ain't nothing lasts forever," that's what you said when you lowered me down here.
true it is, my friends will see to that with all their nibbling.
true it is.