Back to Emilly a short horror story by Atticus Smith. (me)

Back to Emily

By Atticus Smith

He would never take off the funeral clothes, and sometimes he wanted to, but every time he would grab his pale white shirt, it would make his heart weak and shrivel up. He wasn’t disgusting, though he made sure he was thoroughly clean. It was the only exception that he would be free of his suit, only to put it back on like a parasite.

His door was rarely open, and at most, it would be cracked, and artificial light would seep through. It didn’t bother him much though, because he thought  “Nothing can bother me now, not like anyone can anymore.”

His hopeless body lay on his bed like a mountain on the earth, the horrible, unforgiving earth that he didn’t consider whole anymore. Not anymore. Staring at what was left of what he inherited from her. An old chest that is slightly splintered on the side but is considered sturdy. Constantly, he would reach out and then pull away, like he was fighting with himself over and over. Maybe it was because he didn’t really want to fight with anyone else or that he knew in his heart that his true target was himself.

Finally, after days of fighting and staying alone in this time that he called a room, he announced to himself in his mind. “That's it, I will do it. I'll do it, I swear,” His hands pressed onto the wooden box, and he looked down and prayed. Please, whatever is in this, please give me something that is forever, please take me back. His voice was almost hoarse from speaking, but triumphant and a bit pitiful. He knew this, but he had to. 

He had to!

He bounced off his bed, his legs cramped but sturdy. His head wobbled, but he was also fixated. He willingly let his legs give out, like sticks falling from a tree. He got closer and petted the box with its splintered, tiny pokes, but also its smooth paisley design. He inhaled and lifted the lid with the strength of a hundred men and….

Nausea filled his lungs through his noise and liquids began to pass through his mouth to the other side of the room. “No, no! They said they never found her! How is that possible? How? How?!

He finally got his wish. Her head was clean, cut from the neck, and almost perfectly preserved. She was here with him. He was finally back to Emily.