HOLLOWED SOUL OF THE MISTRESS OF DEATH

i am the ghost, i am my ghost

...

i am the ghost
i am my ghost

a series of ringing echoed through the hallways of my rusting gallery of unfulfilled dreams. i answered: hello? hello? a knock followed, a screeching sound was heard, a blurry image of a woman wearing a blood-soaked dress hanging from the clothesline of my mother basking in the sunlight of summer appeared in front of my shaken vision as i wander my eyes around the vast land of my nightmares.

i took a step forward with the rusting telephone in my hand; hello? hello? a raspy voice answered with a whisper, muffled sound was heard. i tried to close my eyes and press the telephone in my ears until it bled—desperation clinging into my bones but the voice was gone along with the cold wind. i opened my eyes, misty fogs welcomed my sense of sight, hindering me to make a shape out of the broken silhouette of a girl running through the barely visible path.

hello? hello? the silhouette broke down into the ground. help! another whisper was heard. i stepped forward, the silent cry soon turned into a series of hysterical screams, pleading for help. i took another step, the silhouette stood up and turned around. i froze, startled. it slowly walked away from me until the silhouette disappeared into the misty fog.

hello? hello? i opened my eyes, broken shards of a mirror showed my own wretched reflection.

i am the ghost
i am my ghost

0002 || seah.