melody's return

You don't get to win. I told you I never lose. No matter how much time passes between us, how much further we grow apart, the statement still stands true. You can tell the world I was insane, you can tell everyone you don't know what happened, but when the guilt comes creeping up your throat, when it's stabbing your heart, when you're on your knees begging for forgiveness, you'll know. There will be no doubt in your mind that I've come for you.

It won't come in the form of my body, or my voice, or my words. It'll be in the thing you love most, in the one you love most. In the form of some demon lying to your left. In the form of your bones going cold, your fingers going blue.

Do you see the little things? The way your cabinets are open even after you close them? Your apartment is cold at night. You've moved since we last spoke. You don't have that blue shirt I loved, the one with the whale on the breast pocket.

Who are you, now that I'm gone?

I watch as you open the door to your favorite restaurant. You're smiling at a tall blonde woman, her blue dress swaying in the breeze. You always loved blondes. You wink at her, tell her "ladies first." She blushes, you walk in after her.

The hostess asks you, table for 2? You say yes, you squint a little at how harsh the lighting is. The blonde notices your eyebags now. She thinks, is he sleeping well? Is he working too hard?

I know the truth. I know what haunts you at night, I know what follows you more often than your shadow.

You sit in front of her, asking her about her work. She works with computers, she's an accomplished woman. That's more than you could ever say for yourself.

You're talking to her, but you can't focus. You move your mouth, words come out. This is not your body. Your vision is blurring, isn't it? You haven't seen or thought clearly in days. This is your own fault. This is all because of that sin you committed.

You know what you did.

She's repeating your name. How many times has she said it now? Three, four, five times?

Isn't that how many times you ran your car over me? Over my dead, bleeding body? Do you remember what I looked like? No, not that version of me. Not the one you're staring at right now. That's not me.

She says your name again. You're frozen in place. You're no longer sitting in front of your date. Her face is mine, my face is hers.

And now it's not. You shake your head, as if to get your eyes back in place. You're seeing things, you smile at her to get rid of that thought

Sorry, you tell her, Work has been a pain in the ass. Add a chuckle at the end, make it less awkward.

We both know you don't work anymore, she states suddenly. Her smile drops, the air around her seeming cold and dangerous. Can you feel it? Can you feel me?

I told you I would come for you.

Are you okay? She asks you. You're confused. She whispers, do you need to go home?

Do you hear me laughing in your ear, now? You get up, "you're not real," you mumble.

She asks what you mean, she has her purse at her chest now. She's afraid of you.

You repeat yourself, you keep repeating yourself, who are you talking to now? Her, or me? Are you saying it yourself, are you telling yourself you aren't real?

There's no one there anymore. You're outside the restaurant. You prick, didn't even bother paying the bill. So stupid of you. Look at your reflection in the window of that shop. It's not your reflection, is it? Doesn't it look just like me? Aren't I so beautiful? With the way the side of my face is peeling off, falling onto my shoulder. The piece of scalp that's become detached from my skull. Am I the one you loved? Is this the version of me—

You've turned away now. You can't stand to look at me. Do you know what you did to me? When you took me apart, and put all my pieces back together in the wrong spots? I was created for you, didn't anyone tell you? The universe took your rib and created me, your soulmate, your other half, your missing piece, your angel. And this is how you repay the universe? I'm just a reflection of you, why do you hate me so?

You don't like your own reflection.

You're staring at the street now, the cars passing by. Cars. So funny, how ordinary everyday things remind us of our deepest, darkest secrets.

"I know what you did." Your date is next to you. She mumbles into your ear. "I know what you did that night."

Frozen. Your breath is resting, waiting in your lungs while the hairs at the back of your neck stand still. In. Out. Turn your head to the left.

Wrong. She's to your right, breathing down your neck. In. Out.

In. Out.

In.

Out.

Are you afraid? Can you tell who your date really is? There was never a woman who wanted to fall in love with you. I would never let you get another chance.

You ask her what she wants from you, still staring to the left. You barely open your lips. You're too afraid to move, too afraid she'll hurt you, too afraid to make the wrong move again. Now you know how it felt. How it felt to live next to you. How it felt to live under your arms, in your bed, in your kitchen. How it felt to hold my breath when I heard the garage door opening. To move throughout the house as quietly as I could, walking on my toes, freezing when the floor creaked. To stand as still as possible, hoping you wouldn't see me. You get to live my life. In this moment, this infinite moment, you get to live the years and years I did.

Your end will be the same as mine. You will be your own end.

You gasp, suddenly. What did you see?

I follow your gaze across the street. It's your reflection in a window. Are you so self-centered you have to stare at yourself, even in this moment?

That's not it, is it? You're staring at the woman next to you. Your 'date.' And the woman on your other side. To your left.

Me. It's me.

Your breathing is harbored, now. Shallow, glass-filled breaths, you're too afraid to blink. Terrified, shivering, vision going blurry.

My smile is beautiful in this light. A smirk. My eyes shine sinisterly, glinting in the moon's rays. If only you had seen how lovely I was when I was at your side. If only you had appreciated the way I shone like a star when you looked at me.

Your chin is trembling.

"Are you going to cry?" I speak for the first time. Your date is gone. You blink, shake your head as if to get me out.

"No," You mumble. "You're not real." You start walking the opposite direction, into a crowd of people.

I can't help but laugh. Do you think you can escape me? Do you think you can walk off, like I'm nothing? I exist. I exist in every part of your body, in every part of your day. Watch me be real. Watch me fill your pores, watch me be in every step you take. I will haunt you until the end of time. Even after your death, I will not let you rest in peace. I am the demon that creaks in your home at night, I am the shadowy figure you see in the corner of your closet in the dark. I exist. I exist in the extremities of your nightmares, I exist in the most aching pains of the night. Do not try to escape me.

You walk through the group of people, watching as their faces morph into mine as you lock eyes with them. Each of them, one by one, laughs at you, spitting, smirking. Are you starting to feel small? Stupid? Belittled?

You cross the street, you don't look both ways. And still, even without any precaution or sense of your own safety, you're okay. You live your life this way. No care for anything, as if you expect the world to bend in order to go your way. You expected me to bend over backwards any moment you wanted me to. And I did.

I walk beside you, smiling. Just like we used to. Except you're the one who's afraid now. You're the one who's putting on a mask, to appear like a happy, perfect couple.

But I'm sick of it. No longer will I bend to your will, no longer will I cower under your gaze. You've killed me, you've torn my soul to shreds, kept my heart in a jar and let it sit.

I grip your arm, my overgrown nails digging into your skin. You don't resist. Isn't that funny? How the things I used to do so often are things you do now? How I am finally on the other side of my entire life?

Violently, I push you forward, to the end of the street where pavement meets dirt. Your face meets the ground, and suddenly we're far, far away from the street we had just walked on. We're miles from the restaurant your date was in.

"Do you recognize this spot?" I ask you, smiling with sharp teeth as you flinch at my voice. "Do you?" I look down at you, down at your nails as they grip the loose soil of the earth.

"You don't need to do this—" I kneel down and strike my hand across your face before you get the chance to utter my name.

You don't get to have any part of me in your mouth. You've taken everything from me, my reputation, my life. You do not get to take my name.

"Keep your lips sealed. This night is your last night. Do you remember what you did here? Do you remember who you were?" I hope you remember. I hope you remember the fear on my face, the smell of beer and who knows what else on your mouth, as you pushed me onto the harsh gravel of our front yard, where I was too weak to get up, too weak to cry for help.

"I never understood why you wanted a home so secluded, so far from anyone else." I spit at you, watching as you try to run, but every turn you take leads back to me. "But that night, when I screamed and screamed for help, it hit me. You always wanted to kill me. You had it all planned out."

Nothing hurt more than your stupid model car running over my limp, dying body over and over again. Beating the death into me after my soul had already been gone from my chest.

"What do you want from me?!" You scream, slamming your fists against every tree in sight. Just like you did to me, night and day, in private, behind closed doors.

I smile at you, it catches your eye. Your chest rises and falls, nostrils flaring. But your eyes, they aren't angry now. No, not like those days I lived, not like those nights I suffered.

You're afraid. You're terrified. You don't see yourself living past this night, you don't see yourself waking up tomorrow morning. That fear I see in you right now is the same fear I know deep in my heart you ignored each time you looked in my eyes.

"Do I look scared, now, my love?" I step closer to you, and you fall back, crawling backwards. I laugh, knowing it's futile. The space between us decreasing.

Your breathing hastens, your nails breaking, the hair you did so perfectly this morning now a mess. "Why don't you answer me? I thought you loved to talk." I pout at you, and I know my eyes are shining.

This is all I wanted. All I wanted for years and years and years. You cut me off from my life. From my family, my friends, my work, my dreams. You ended my life.

I want to end yours.

I kneel down quickly, wrapping my hand loosely around your neck. Why don't you fight back?

"Am I beautiful to you right now? Do you like this version of me?" What you see now is the most stunning picture of me. Long, flowing white dress, makeup set so perfectly, nails done, hair done. The perfect wife. Picture perfect.

"Don't be like this. This isn't you, Melody." Finally, you speak. At the mention of my name, I flinch. I lift my chin, looking down at you, mouth open, red lips. "You're not violent. You're not angry."

You don't look afraid anymore. Why aren't you afraid? Why do I feel afraid? I don't feel so strong anymore, I don't feel powerful. Weak. Just like I used to be. Just like you used to make me feel. Suddenly, I'm Melody, alive and abused. Abused and afraid. Afraid and abandoned.

But I'm Melody, bruised and beaten. Beaten and brute. Brute and bitter. Bitter and bloody.

I am Melody. Dead.

My grip around your throat tightens, just enough to barely let you breathe. "Do you think you can trick me? You think you can say my name so sweetly and I'll whimper like a dog? You're pathetic." I push you flat to the ground. "I'm dead, you imbecile. You killed me. You think you can touch me? You think you can hurt me?"

I know what I have to do now. Now, you look at the version of me you hurt the most. The one that horrifies you. My eye is half out the socket, my hair singed off and cut in choppy layers. I'm missing an eyebrow, blood running down my chin, my neck, my shoulder.

I have my wedding dress. And it's torn and cut and stained in all the ways I felt since the day I married you.

"I'm violent." I dig a long sharp nail into your shoulder blade. "I am angry." I push down under your eye, to match my own. I ignore the way you flail and bend, the way you groan and shout. "This is me. I am you, and you are me." I run a bloody nail across your cheek, cutting a straight line. "We're spouses, aren't we? We're a match. Don't you know, we're meant to be?"

"Stop! Please, stop!" You plead. You can beg and cry. You can keep trying to smash my head with rocks you pick up, you can kick. But you knew I would come for you.

I grab the lighter from your pocket. I knew you would have one. You always had one. I light it, right before your eyes. I cup your bloody face with my free hand, letting go of your neck, admiring the bruising that's beginning to blossom. "We both said 'till death do us part.' But I don't want us to end here, my love. You'll die tonight, painfully and horrifyingly. And I'll find you. I'm tied to you. Your soul is tied to mine."

"No, no! Leave me alone! Let me live!" You slam your hand onto my head, slapping my face. There is no impact. I am stronger than you. You cannot hurt me.

"I'll find you." I move the lighter closer to your face, the heat starting to be too much, overwhelming. "Because even in your death, I'll haunt you."

Because even in death, we will not part. I won't allow it. I'll spend millennia chasing you, eternity making your afterlife hell. I've made deals with devils and demons, and none reach the level of malice you carry in you. Their sins are evident, they don't hide their vile actions. But you, you drove me insane. Had me thinking I was wrong, and that your hand across my cheek was right. You appeared perfect and kind. Loved by all, feared by none.

True evil is one hidden behind perfect hair and perfect faces.

"I'll see you on the other side, my love. Until we meet again. I toss the lighter onto your stomach, stepping back. The ground beneath you crumbles, falling down. Six feet. Dirt spills down, down, down on top you, slowly muffling your screams. Your cries and sobs for help.

You dug your own grave. And I'll be there when you desperately climb out of it.