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Memories That Haunt

Narrative Poem

By Elise Published 3 years ago 2 min read

As I tiptoe down the cold candle-lit hall his memory creaks in my mind with every step, every movement. I can no longer hide amongst the shadows, for he is there with me.

I remember the dark fear-filled nights spent hiding from him. His growls would echo through these very halls whilst I hid, and his handsomeness would shed as he revealed his monstrous self.

His words, at times, would be a silkiness lacing through my mind. But when he would spit words of venom my soul would fray. Many times was I drenched in his cruelty, unable to escape because I loved him dearly. But now I am truly trapped more than ever before by the memories that haunt.

Oh, how I hate him so.

There are moments that I do hope he will be hiding around the corner awaiting me. 

I pray for it! 

Because only then this nightmare would be just that - a nightmare. Alas, it can never be. His body has decayed, never again will it be able to hold his soul, his dreadful, ghastly soul that is trapped here with me.

And when I run the shadow of his memory catches me and I can hear his laughter echoing loudly.

Or is it my own?

I stop. 

Here it is, the room where he once lay. The very room where it all took place on that horror-filled night. 

You see, his love was intoxicating at times, it would get me drunk and happy but his harsh words and evil tones drove me into a silent rage. 

This rage was aimed at myself for becoming addicted to the pain he caused. And the only way to escape it all was to rid me of this man by killing him.

I had to, or he'd kill me.

I remember it all so clearly. The way I climbed on top of his body. The way he grumbled sleepily for me to get off. The way the knife felt in my hand as it struck him over and over again.

I had watched his life leak from his body, from this world. I was relieved, however, the feeling only lasted a moment because the next thing I felt was his soul forcing its way into my body. 

Never before had I felt such suffocation and pain. I still feel it. Now there is no room for sanity, only thoughts of sin and torment.

I wish to rip him out of me, for his soul to burn and rot but it's much too late for that. 

Now the memories that haunt are living within me, never can I escape him.

fact or fiction

About the Creator


I love writing & reading poetry & fiction.

Grateful for those who read and support me.

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