I ventured out earlier. Some humans were here examining The Human. It is dead. It hung itself with a rope. This is why I heard creaking. This is why I saw swaying. This is why it smelled rotten. I am sad. I went back to my home. I didn't feel like moving. The sound of the other human's voices are making me angry. I want to be alone with The Human. If I go to see it up close I will surely be killed.
I remember times when the human would cry. It would come home and sit down and let tears pour out. Sometimes it would cry before bed. I cannot cry because I am a spider. I want to cry, though. I wish The Human was not dead. I miss its company. I no longer have company.
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Spider
Short StoryWarning: This story handles the topic of death and may be triggering to some users. Spider is a short story about a spider that wants to escape. This becomes less important once something tragic happens to the human that lives in its apartment. I...
