(21) To End All You’ve Become

(A horror story in 50 words.)

My rage burns until my mouth tastes like sulfur. I touch the wall. It catches fire.

You’re passed out drunk; the choking clouds of toxic smoke suffocate you. You’ll never know what you made me into.

Police decide you fell asleep with a cigarette, and I hide my smoldering fingertips.

(Hi, everyone. I committed to doing The Writing Cooperative’s 52-Week Writing Challenge, and my choice is a 50-word horror story every week. This is going to be … challenging, even if I give myself a little leeway on the exact word count. Please click the heart if you enjoyed it. And if you liked this, I’ve written longer stuff too.)