Little Betty by Michael T. Flanders

The girl comes to me every night before the witching hour,

creeping out of the walls like a shadow from beyond.

She always appears in grave dressings of dark burgundy and white,

dressings meant to match the paleness of her skin and the ruby droplets sliding down her face.

“Play with me,” she beckons, “play with me like daddy used to.”

A chilled wind takes hold of my person as her voice fills my ears.

Bleeding almost instantly into reality,

she takes eager steps towards my bed.

Never once does she acknowledge the trail of gore and darkness she leads from the walls,

the trail that brings her to my side for “play time” and leaves a mask of terror upon me.

She smiles through long, raven hair and crimson covered lips,

“Daddy used to play with me all the time,

at least until mommy found our special place.”

I stare on in horror as she recounts the story to me for the fifteenth time,

telling me of her father’s abuse and other misguidings.

“Daddy didn’t like mommy finding our special place,” she says,

“so he hit her with this, then he did it to me.”

More blood trickles down her cheeks as a small hand ax appears in her grasp,

 “and now I’ll do it to you!”

This time, this ethereal swing, this ghostly action will be my undoing.

At least this is what I think every night when she unsheathes the ax.

But it doesn’t, and the ax disappears, she disappears,

yet again passing the promise of Death clear through my skull.

Each time it never fails, it always ends the same,

fear caught in my throat and anxiety in my stomach.

Suddenly a noise catches my attention,

and I look to see Little Betty standing near the door.

Draped in her nightgown of dark burgundy and white,

she gazes at me through raven hair.

“Are you okay, daddy,” she asks,

“I thought I heard something.”

I shake off my stupor and reply,

“It’s nothing dear, go back to sleep.”

She yawns a longful sign of tiredness and asks,

“Can we play, daddy?”

My brow drops as my black, hungry eyes stay focused on Betty,

“Not tonight, my love. But in the morning, I’ll meet you at our special place.”

She half smiles and shuffles off to her room,

leaving me to contemplate the fun games we’ll play at day break…

THE END