Purple

Her breath is cold against the back of my neck, spindly bone fingers encircle my waist, and locking me in an embrace I can’t escape.

Her bare feet sinking into the soil grasping the ground as roots of a dying tree. Her ebony hair blowing through the shallow winds and ensnaring into my hazelnut mane, bonding her body to mine in any human way possible.

The smell of decaying flesh and death gases causes my nose to crinkle and my tongue to gag my voice. Sally, her grip is strong as she refuses to leave earth to return to the underworld. Even in her death she still holds some invisible hold to me, As if she remembers what we did to her. She knows of my guilt and how I know I can’t come clean, not without taking credit for the whole incident.

She remembers how we didn’t bother to save her, how we stopped fighting the waves of the water so that she could sink under the abyss of grey water. Never to resurface, but neither will I with a haunting living with my every breath nor dying with my thick muddy guilt.

Time, I suppose, but the more a fall to her demons, I forget about my own and I find I am buried in my own grave with secrets, revenge, and lies. The worst part being that there is no escape, even in death. Sally proves that death should be feared even more because your demons follow you to your last breath and keep you company while you cling to others to avoid the underworld.