*Trigger warnings*

Depression, Divorce, Death/loss, grief
Suicide, Mental illness, violent content
Reader discretion is advised
***

             Days in the hospital’s intensive care unit felt like a lifetime for Micki. She stopped counting the days after a week, maybe two, of her being here. Why would she want to anyways? Nothing mattered to her anymore. Nothing to care about. She hardly spoke to the nurses as they checked on her vitals. Concerned hospital staff remarked to themselves how Micki appeared to be in a trance, her hazel eyes vacant and lifeless.

           “That poor girl, you can tell she’s been through so much,” Micki overheard one of the nurses in the ICU whisper to the other as she lay in her hospital bed with her eyes closed. “I don’t know if she’s even slept the entire time she’s been here,” the nurse added in the same quiet tone, worry, and anxiety apparent in her voice. Micki did not remember much of the conversation or if the nurses were whispering about her late that night. Whether it was the drugs or her imagination fueled by sheer will not to sleep, it didn’t matter. All Micki could assume was that the doctors wanted to do a sleep study or refer her to a psychiatric specialist.

            While that idea might not be favorable to most teens, Micki had no will to care and tried to convince herself her life mattered. Perhaps there was a guardian angel, her mother watching over her, even in the woods where she suffered so much horror. “Least they’re giving somewhat of a damn,” she ultimately concluded to herself, knowing all too well nobody else would. 

Everybody, including Paul, was here because they had to. Not because they cared about her. It was an obligation as if they had to out of pity and sympathy. Besides, what was the point of even worrying? Mustering up negative energy requires a significant amount of will and hate. She did not have the energy for any of those options or shed tears. A tremendous amount of exhaustion overwhelmed Micki as she closed her eyes, waiting for the drugs to kick in and lull her back to sleep.

I wish I had never been born.

The thought circulated in her mind as Micki felt a sinister concoction of dread and fear, as an unknown creature was at this moment hunting her. She had been running for her life for what felt like ages. The cool night air breezed through Micki’s hair as the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Micki knew that if she dared stop or slow down, there was a chance she was going to die at the hands of whatever god-awful unholy creature was chasing her. What could it possibly be? Was it pure imagination straight out of a Stephen King novel?

         I wish I had never been born.

The thought came up again, tears in her eyes as she wanted nothing more than this to be a bad dream. This already felt endless and pointless, and she knew she could not keep running like this. Sooner or later, something will have to give, and it was either her or the nightmarish entity that dared not show its face. Not yet, anyway. If there was anything that Micki could gather amidst her racing thoughts of terror, she could tell this creature was sadistic, patient, and something straight out of pure folklore.

            How else could it mimic her mother’s voice? Or maintain an ominous presence as if it owned these woods? Nothing about this made any sense whatsoever. However, Micki had little time to conclude as she saw what looked like an abandoned cabin. Reaching the porch, she wasted no time, swiftly pulling the door open and slamming it shut. Immediately afterward, she heard a deep-throated growl as she instinctively held the door shut with her body strength.

            “What the hell do you want?! Just leave me alone!” Micki screamed out, already pleading for her life. She gave another high-pitched scream, feeling the door nearly go off its hinges with a loud bang. She held the door closed, the loud noises continuing with every thrust towards the weakened door. Micki started to sob, thinking it was already her time to die, as she held the door shut with everything in her bodily strength.

            I wish I had never been born.

The thought repeated in her head with every tear that left her face. Until the noise abruptly stopped. An apprehensive silence filled the air aside from the occasional snort on the opposite side of the door. Micki stayed frozen, not making a move or sound. This would be the pivotal moment where a victim in a horror movie would get into a false sense of security, maybe even try to give a tiny peek to see if the coast is clear. But not Micki. Not Micki as terror once more is on her face hearing a rumbling, sinister chuckle on the other side of the door.

            “Pathetic Micki, you can’t run and hide forever, for mommy will find you. We will find you. It’ll only be a matter of time,” a voice drawled out, imitating her mother’s voice. It was darker than the first time the creature attempted it. A shudder escaped from Micki’s lips, the chuckle turning into pure laughter at her plight. She began to regret every decision that led up to this moment, the horrid truth sinking in this may be her last moment on earth. The monster on the other side of that door will never rest until sated with her life.

**If you or someone is experiencing a mental health crisis or has been experiencing severe loss and depression, call 1-877-SAMHSA7 (1-877-726-4727), the national suicide prevention lifeline (1-800-273-8255), text CONNECT or HOME to the crisis text line at 741741, or call 911**