I kissed you and I felt coldness trickle down. I pulled away to look and see a sticky black oily spider crawl out from my shadow. I stepped on it when you turned me around for another kiss, and the chill was gone.

A friend asked when the wedding was and I flinched, the chill biting into my spine. A lizard climbed up the wall next to us, leaving corrosive black footprints that filled me with disgust. It blinked and looked at us, dripping charcoal colored mucus onto the floor. I politely smiled and smashed it under my hand as I answered.

At dinner with your family and my arms are numb. I can’t feel them enough to lift my fork. My meal goes untouched until I hear a scraping meow under the table. I excused myself and forced my stiff limbs to take the knife with me. I crawled under the table and saw a skeletal cat hissing and screeching, unholy and vivid in my ears. Trapped by everyone’s legs, I grabbed it by the tail and stabbed it again and again. When the screams died I sat back down. I am hungrier now.

I’m looking up at you as you fuck me and I feel nothing. The cold is so deep it hurts to breathe. I begin to wonder when you’ll be done, and some hideous slimy viscous creature squirms out from between us. In a fit of rage and horror I grab the alarm clock and smash anything I can reach on the four limbed worm. I hate it so much, I want it to not be, I want it to stop, I want everything to stop, I want to stop hitting it, I want to stop being, I want to make it end, I want myself to end.

Exhausted, I watch it crawl slowly and painfully away from me. I notice in the back of my mind that I am naked, and that unlike me it’s wearing clothes. I rise and step on it, pinning it into place, and lift the gooey black mask off its head. She’s a beautiful little girl, eyes dark and shining with tears, brown hair bloody and matted. With renewed energy she kicks away and crawls, screaming for help, screaming for anyone. I’m chasing, trying to grab her before she gets away. Don’t leave me, I beg, please don’t go, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, please I’ll be good. I chase her up and down stairs, out the door, into the parking lot, onto the pavement, weaving between cars, I chase her until she trips, I catch her and we tumble down together, I grab her head and I bash it in, crying, begging her to stop fucking running, to stay, to go away, to make us both something I can’t explain but crave.

Her eyes, flat and glazed in death, look into me. I grab safety pins and pull first one side of her mouth open, then the other. I look at my handiwork for a feeling of satisfaction, and am both disappointed and relieved to feel nothing. I come back with my new doll and you’re still grunting above me. Typical.

We’re taking photos. You, me, and my doll. We look beautiful together. What a happy couple.