Canker

​

Written by Kathryn J Barrow

​

I wish it was that easy. To slice it out with one cut like it was a canker, causing its destruction, working its way through life forms as if it was attempting to eradicate a species in one fell swoop.  

​

Tap, tap, tap.

​

The noise reverberated throughout my mind, knocking onto every sane thought I had and delving into my psyche, exhausting it into submission and eating at me from the inside out.

 

Tap, tap, tap.

 

I checked in the closet. On each shelf of the bookcase. I checked the tape player which sat on my dressing table housing the last tape I’d played. The dulcet tones of Cranberries which had filled the room as I read the final chapter of The Green Mile.

​

Tap, tap, tap.

​

I checked under the covers, under my pillows. Plucked up the courage to slide onto the floor to check under the bed, expecting a hand to slink its way over my foot, grabbing my ankle and pulling me under to slice my stomach open, and have the monster gorge on my insides. Instead, I found dust bunnies huddled up to keep warm and save themselves from the slaughter my foot could cause their perfectly rounded forms.

​

Tap, tap, tap.

​

Growing ever louder as I lifted my vision to the window. Shadows of tree branches danced on the curtain and I begged it be them being a canter to my mind, feasting on my rationality. I pulled at the material revealing nothing but a simple display. Devastating my hopes.

​

Tap, tap, tap.

​

A tear slid down my cheek as I whimper, filling the room with a desperate cry. For it to end. Pleading it to stop.

​

TAP, TAP, TAP. It’s here.

​

I open my eyes.

​

The door is open.

​

​

The evil can't be purged from his cankered heart. Now I begged for it to be any of the above.

​

 

Should have known it would be him.