It’s interesting how easily you can allow yourself to fade without a single person noticing.

They tell you, “Oh I love you!” one minute.

The next the only voices you hear are the whispering giggles of the ghosts all around you.

"I know when I’ll go," I tell them.

Their giggles increase as they circle the room.

"Oh? Do you now?" they mock.

"November 5th," I spit into the familiar darkness.

Their mocking increases.

They don’t trust that I’ll go through with it.

That I will honestly throw my soul from it’s cursed shell and allow them to devour it’s remains.

They think I’m too scared of where I’ll end up after I die.

Why should I be?

If I’m anywhere but here I’ll be content.