Bewitched See More
There was no choice except to lie about the drug use though everyone in town knew the truth. He was a cranker, a tweaker and tried to keep it secret then the inevitable came, his heart started failing and he became weak, spending each day wondering if it would be his last. He had done the drug for a long time and did a good job of hiding it from most of the people in town until his best friend revealed his drug habit to a person close to him.
At first, he tried to explain it away by telling everyone the disorder ran in his family but those that did the white powder lines with him just laughed. They knew why he was having problems with his heart and soon they would be too. But it was too late the damage was done. And they accepted it.
Afraid and frightened and unsure if this was the price he paid for his disloyalty and treacherous behavior. It weighed heavy on his heart and more so in his mind until his thoughts turned and twisted like snakes. He became thin, gaunt and black blue circles appeared underneath his eyes, his hair fell out and he became an old man what seems like overnight. He remembered the last words she spoke; chills ran through his body, he began to violently shake, tremble and his breathing quickened.
Then it began, the nightmares, and whispers on the wind. Shadows that he was sure were hiding around the corner waiting for him and the laughter that came from thin air. Paranoia was consuming him and there was no controlling it.
There would be no escape this time. It was not hatred that doomed him but love. Stronger than the winds in the sky the flowing waters of the earth, and even the stars that dwell throughout the universe. The emotion that was stronger than death itself.
He could tell no one of the thoughts that consumed him like cancer lest he revealed the monster that he was. So, his fear festered like a rotting wound that would never heal. Counting the beats of his pulse in his wrists wondering if they would slow and stop day after day until at last, he wished for death.
When the fates deemed, he had enough they came for him and it would not be the sounds of angel wings that greeted his soul. But the moans and shrieks of dark spirits from the underworld, and the smell of sulfur. It would be her voice he heard laughing, as they took him, her face he saw smiling until she turned and walked away. becoming a blurred vision. His eyes dimmed and he strained once more to see her before breathing his last. It was her love that had bewitched him and her love that took his life.
My attempt at writing a ghost story
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M.Darby Oct.31, 2019
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