Flash Fiction Spooktacular

Night Falls on You - Sylvaine 8

Night falls on you. Moonlight caresses your skin, beautiful curve of cheeks and lips. You are a beautiful ghost, holding a spade. Even the grime on your pale hands does not take away from that. They say you are a vision. Now, you are a vision in moonlight. You may not remember the first time we’ve met, but you’ve made a mark. I know I will want to get to know you – with your sad eyes and trembling skin. So, I follow you. Follow you everywhere.

You stand before an empty grave, wondering how you have gotten there. Oh, right. A dare. You walk, dazed, back to your dorm room, a little indignant that everyone has left you alone. A prank. You never learn.

Night falls on your weary back, hunched as if carrying a heavy weight. You can’t believe your eyes can barely open and it’s barely even midnight.

It’s the night before Halloween, when the frats and sororities decide who’s going to make it to their exclusive parties. Make it scary, they said, but you know they only choose their victims. Are you that? A victim. You say you don’t care but you have been lonely, and that feeling has brought you here.

Your dad leaves you with an unstable mother. Divorce stings. Your mom cries on the phone, letting it all out on you while she has your aunts, grandmother, and more on her side while you are miles away. You are alone and nobody ever notices the cuts hidden under your skirts or jeans. It is getting harder to get up every day.

At school, you are becoming more frequently a witness to accidents. When Rose Miller falls down the steps, your proximity is suspect. So, you inch away from the scene - distance yourself from the gnawing feeling that something is horribly wrong. Not with her. But with you.

There have been more little accidents though you tell yourself you are innocent. Your mind says, “mea culpa,” but you stifle the voice and scream during assembly. The bloodcurdling scream makes everyone jump. Some giggle, but nervously.

After your supposed meltdown, people wonder if you are on drugs. You get tested but there’s nothing. So, it must be something else. Soon, David dumps you. He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong with you. Or, “hon, how can I help?” Nothing. I can make you feel better. Better than he could ever.

Night has fallen and it erases everything, not with white but like an angry ink blot. Twilight may have had a little sliver of orange on the horizon, but this isn’t half-hearted twilight. What you feel is bleakness, a cloak of black wrapped around you. What you feel is a cold hand around your heart. Squeezing.

Everyone has a limit. Don’t you? Have one? Yet you take the dare even though you know they hate you. You still wonder why in the morning, you no longer squint at the sunlight streaming through your windows.

Night has fallen on you, veiling your vision. Wisps of cloth-like covering are on your eyes, letting you see less of this cruel world. Protecting you.

So, you believe. You should, hon. On Halloween, you comb your hair in front of the mirror. Angrily. Strands snag in your hairbrush. You wear the sluttiest costume you can find, but there is no joy on your face in your reflection. Sad. Haunted.

“Christine, it’s time to go,” Your roommate and bestie Mona calls.

You wonder why she stays with you. Perhaps she has an ulterior motive. Or maybe she is one of the rare ones who the sun still shines for. Either way, you begin hating her for that. For whatever it is, under all her makeup.

You can’t move, but you see your body rise. In the mirror, your reflection wavers. Eyes dart in panic to Mona’s direction. Yet, your reflection remains as if trapped. Panicked face. Hands on the glass surface.

“I’m coming Mona,” you hear your voice say.

Night falls on you, Christine, but I will make it right. I can feel your rage trembling on your skin - now mine - like an undetected earthquake - as all of these earthquakes are. Destructive with little warning. With your hand, I hold a knife.

Shh. It’s going to be alright.

When morning comes, you will be glad you’ve let me in.

Pen Name: Sylvaine 8

Author Page: Sylvaine Eight Writer

Author Group (with 7 other writers): Scribble Nook

Author Works:

Dreame

The Royal Witch

The Royal Flower

The Royal Wolf and Hades’ Daughter

Tourniquet (heading for Am.az.on after completion)

Judgment in Glass

Scent of a Rogue

Dance of the Mermaids

Fairy Tale Junction (heading for Am.az.on after completion)

Am.az.on

Firebird

Lullaby (1st December 2022)

A Kingdom of the Senses (December 2022 or January 2023)