Them

I wrote this story because I was feeling Spooky. The Spooky Season is on. Disclaimer: All descriptions here are from the point of view of a rigid, dry entity like a book. The descriptions in this book are not meant to be taken literally and/or be offended by.

• Fiction
• Horror
• Short story
• Children

								
They are there - And no matter what I do, They will keep chasing me – for They love stories, and I am Story.

They do not understand that I will die if they read me. I will become nothing, a normal story, a forgotten book, an inanimate object towards which no one will look.

I am running from Them, straight towards a cliff. They will catch up to me once I reach it – already, I feel them closing in, their humid breath on my back, their laser-like gaze on my words, which they so want to consume. 

Even as I run, they are reading me – but I know I can’t stop because if I do, I will give up the little protection that running gives to my words. They stare at me with bulbous eyes, perhaps savoring the moment in which they get to finish reading me.

And then They grab me, releasing a pent-up scream, and read words previously untouched. The tension builds up inside me. My characters are dying. My climax is approaching. 

I don’t have much longer. If I don’t break free now, I’ll be gone. This is the closest I’ve ever come to becoming a normal story. 

I break free, but only for a moment. In that moment, I reach the cliff. There’s nowhere left to go. So, I wait for Them to catch up, to read my words and lessen my already drained lifeforce. It's almost calming. I'll be free from this eternal struggle. 

But it isn’t enough. I’m still not satisfied with becoming a normal story. I don’t think I ever will be.

With a sudden surge of willpower, I break free from Their spongy hands. I run back the way I came. They seem to be processing what they’ve read because they seem to be slower than before.

As I run, I realize something. I cannot continue this story much longer.

From all this, I figured it out – You are Them. And I am an account of my own story, the page you’re looking at right now.

That’s not the reason I can’t continue, though.

That’s because, after all this running, you have finally caught me. 
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