A Boo Hag crouches on my chest every night. Her toenails drag across my throat. She hums a song from the deep, deep South and twirls her talons in my hair.
I painted my door haint blue, but still, they hang from my shutters. I place a broom in the corner, but nothing stops to count the straws.
I can’t keep the haunts off my doorstep. They pick at me as the crow picks at the carcass on the roadside.
Every morning, I trip over skins and teeth. I draw in ghosts with every breath, and they clog my lungs.
Elyse Russell is a previously unpublished writer who enjoys working on short stories, poetry, and graphic novel scripts from her home in the country. She has been writing since age seven, and loves stories in any form.