I’m afraid of him. Terrified. Petrified.
We have never met, but I’ve heard of the terrible things he can do and I know he’s cruel to the extreme.
Sometimes I forget about him for long periods of time, but then one day, I’m walking down a sunny street and thoughts of him invade my head. Just like that. Uninvited, unbidden.
He knows how to suck all happiness out of me, even from a distance. From his vantage point, he watches me. Sometimes, he even whispers in my ear.
‘I’ll eventually win,’ he says. His voice is strident and harsh and reminds me of a raven. His breath on my neck is colder than a snowstorm.
I can imagine his touch, I’m sure his hands are clammy and slippery like insidious snakes.
On bad days, I dream of him. I see him coming near and laughing a hollow laugh when he notices the terror in my eyes. When I wake up, I’m covered in sweat, shaky and broken.
On good days, I defy him. I tell him that he’s not important. That what matters is the life I live every day. The many things I’ve accomplished. All the moments I’ve enjoyed. All the flowers I’ve seen.
I tell him he’s nothing. Just a vague threat in the future. An overused word. Death.