Speak

You can only find the strength to speak. In a croaking voice, you ask, “What do you want?” 

The skeleton leans closer, sending shivers down your spine. The bed feels rough beneath you, and the smell of dirt fills your nose. The skeleton’s face is right by yours when it says in a voice like ice, “I want you to remember.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes it will protect you from whatever horror the skeleton is about to bestow upon you, but nothing comes. The scent of soil grows stronger and so does the cold temperature, but the skeletal hands on your body have disappeared. 

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself staring at the night sky, a full moon shining down upon you. You tremble from the cold and when you look around, you notice that you are no longer safe in your bed but are instead laying in the dirt, six-foot walls surrounding you on all sides. You turn your head and see a skeleton beside you, its mouth open in a scream but unmoving. The skeleton holds your hand, and you notice that your hand is missing all of its flesh and muscle too. 

Suddenly, you do remember. You watch the night sky progress and hold your skeletal brother’s hand in your shared grave, as you have done for the past three hundred years. 

THE END