Story #38

Ellen stared at him as a he stared at his phone. They had been up for awhile, but barely spoken. Michael barely moved a muscle. His eyes focused on the small, lit screen. Five minutes passed before he even noticed Ellen staring at him.

“Are you okay? You look upset,” Michael said, trying to keep his voice even. He already knew what was wrong.

“I do? Nope, I’m fine.” Ellen turned to face the wall.

Michael replied, “Okay,” and went back to whatever was grabbing his attention on his cell phone.

Ellen sighed. Her body language screamed, “OBVIOUSLY SOMETHING IS WRONG AND I WANT YOU TO CONSOLE ME,” but she said nothing.

Warm, salty tears began to stream down Ellen’s cheeks. Before she knew it, she began shaking with uncontrollable anger. Michael sighed, set down his phone, and leaned over to hug Ellen.

“Don’t touch me,” Ellen yelled between sobs.

Michael asked, “What’s happening right now?”

In a matter of seconds, Ellen leaped from the bed and ran out the room. Michael chased her and found her sitting down, frantically stabbing her arms, nearly carving most of the skin off of one of them. Blood splatters covered the kitchen floor. 

“What the fuck?” Michael raced to Ellen’s side to grab the knife from her sweaty palms. She looked up and smiled. Black mass covered her eye sockets. She began laughing like a wild woman. Michael slowly backed up. “This isn’t funny, Ellen. Please stop!”

Ellen stopped laughing and dropped the knife. It looked as if she stood up amd levitated towards Michael.

“You’re pathetic,” the deep voice said. It was no longer Ellen. “You look at your stupid fucking phone all day. You ignore her, and stare at your shitty devices. How do you think she feels, Michael? Hmmm?” The voice coming from Ellen sounded demonic. Ellen began laughing again and grabbed Michael’s neck and squeezed. Michael, thrown off by her sudden strength, clawed at her bloody arms and hands.

“I’m…so…sorry,” Michael managed to say.

Ellen immediately let him go. She tumbled to the floor and gasped for air. She looked down to see blood streaks covering her arms. With desperation in her voice, she asked, “What did you do to me?”
The end. Lesson learned.


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