The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Detestation
by Elizabeth H. Smith

I deplored the nightmare behind the veil of my eyes. Its vile nature scorched me from within. This rotten body was no more than a wasted sack of illness and suffering. One that couldn’t be allowed to go on. There was no meaning in my configuration, no worth in my brittle structure; I was no more a person than mildew spreading in the dark. That is where I belonged.

I’ve fouled many another; my hands were not clean. I’ve brought destruction upon brilliant futures with smiling faces. Their ghosts only grinned with the madness of injustice. They seethed through gritted teeth and their eyes bulged, furious and red. And if rage failed to consume them, they simply passed away time in crushing defeat, weary legs carrying them down roads of despair.

The depravity of my inner-self wasn’t hidden by the suit of skin I wore; I was never one to portray anything but the monster within—a creature of such horrid nature it should have been put down long ago, quick and without hesitation, lest if infect its neighbors with its inherent disease. Sickly flesh, filthy mind, wicked deeds.

So I removed that suit until nothing remained but the brittle bones within, left to lie untended, unloved, and unmourned.

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Fiction © Copyright Elizabeth H. Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay

More About Elizabeth H. Smith:
Elizabeth H. Smith is a storyteller who writes while trying to keep her cat, Luna off the keyboard. The musical group, Rasputina is her muse. She was born in the state of New York and would never feel at home anywhere else.