Who are you?…..Are you death?

It’s here again. A shadow that’s been following me around. I always see him, at the corner of my sight, but when I turn to look it disappears. It’s just . . . gone. Poof and it’s just air.

It’s been going on for days and it’s still here. To be honest I think it has always been here. Just hiding and shows himself when he feels like it. Coincidentally, I think, it so happens that when he shows himself it’s when I’m at my lowest. Like, every single time.

“Who are you?” is the first thing that came out of my mouth when I decided to talk to it.

“I know you’re there. At least tell me who you are.” No response.

“Who are you?. . . Are you death?”

What am I thinking. Death? Really? I must look stupid right now, but still, no response. I kept quite for a while, thinking, letting things settle and sink in.

“If so. . .” I whispered. “Won’t you take me?” Not a peep was heard but my soft sobs.

I have already assumed that this shadow is death. . . reaper. . . or what ever you call him. What I just don’t get is why is he here. What is he waiting for? He’s just been lurking at every corner I go. Passing by, peeking, sitting, for god what knows he could be anywhere. And when I try to look for him he’s nowhere to be found, like he’s just playing with me.

“I’m tired” I may not see him but I know he’s here, always.

“Please. . . help me. Take me” I pleaded as tears starts to escape my eyes.

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN WAITING FOR?!” I snapped. “WHY ARE YOU EVEN. . . ” I took a deep breath and with tears in my eyes I continued. “Why are you even here?” Not a word till I cried myself to sleep.

Something inside me keeps bugging me. Telling me to ignore this shadow, death, or what ever it is. But it’s too hard to do, now that he’s showing himself more frequently now.

“It’s so cold. I feel so. . . alone. Are you enjoying what you’re seeing? Is this some kind of punishment? What did I do to deserve this? Well for what ever it is for, congratulations because it’s doing a great job hurting me.” Still no answer.

“If I were to be honest, you actually don’t have to do this at all. I’m already hurting. . . .dying. I can feel it, deep inside me, I know. So please, I am begging you, take me away from this misery.”

Days and nights have passed and I haven’t seen this stalker of mine.

“Has he finally left me?” I’m feeling doubtful but relieved at the same time. And when I starting to forget about him he shows himself again. Christ! He’s seriously just toying with me now.

Now he doesn’t lose a chance to make me remember his presence. I start taking to him again but with all attempts no response was given back. Though, you really can’t call it talking or having a conversation, its more like me doing a monologue. Monologues that keeps on repeating. Begging and begging, questions after questions but no progress.

“Seriously, If you are who I thought to be, which is death, why are you here if you’re not going to “take” me? Isn’t that your job? Why are you taking so long and I am like super ready to go?” I paused ” Unless, you’re not death at all. Hallucination maybe? Jesus, am I delirious?”

A lot of things has been running in my mind since this creature came lurking around. I took a deep breath to clear my mind but all this same thought keeps coming back. He haunts me and it hurts and tiring. I kept ignoring him before but there is only so much i can do. I can’t keep up with this, i cant keep ignoring him, I can’t do this forever. I am just too tired.

And that is when I snapped, I can’t keep doing this. I looked at the creature and said,

“I’m sorry, it seems I can’t wait for you any longer”

I got out of my bed and did what I had to do.

I hanged my self.

As I was about to lose my breath I heard a small sinister laugh.

“See” said a voice I heard for the first time. I realized it’s him.

“You never really needed me. You had it in you all along” his voice was cold a sharp.

“You only needed a small teeny tiny little push to figure out everything you needed to know on your own.” he continued” You had the answers in you all this time. Everything that you needed was at arms reach and now you got it! You finally did it. I am SO proud you” His voice faded to nothing.

He didn’t talk anymore after that and though I may not see it I know he’s smiling very wide. I can feel it.

There I realized this creature. . . this shadow wasn’t a ‘he’ or death at all. It was an ‘it’ . . . an ‘it’ that’s always been inside me.


© O.S.C Delson


Black Out

when the lights are dead and the streets pitch black,

and only lights of passing cars illuminates the way.

when you stare at the distant and see no twinkle of light,

but hears the gentle sound of generators somewhere.

it is at this moment when you imagine all the worst that could happen.
she could not see anything, not her way not even her stop

and when she did she was a few meters past.

she sees nothing, not the bright color of her shoe nor the palm of her hands

she hears no one but the howls of the wind pushing her back.

as she search thru her pack for a torch she imagined all the worst that could happen.
she walked home with the light on her hand

looking back every step she made to assure she was still alone

she quickened her pace desperate and afraid

as she imagines all the worse that could happen
there it was, her home, her comfort

safe at last she thought, away from darkness, away from the strong wind and away from whatever is out there.

from the door of her home a light beamed at her.

blinded, she thought who could it be at the other end.

Her father? or mother perhaps. she knew it wouldn’t be her sister as she would be in dreamland.

when her eyes have adjusted there she saw, that the worst that could happen was not following her at all,
rather waiting for her to come home.

take care.


©O.S.C Delson

The Clinic

“Good morning Ms. Shawldovel. I’m Doctor Clarke. Nice to meet you.”

“Good morning to you, too, doc” I said as I entered his clinic.

The clinic was very typical. A simple desk with a computer on top of it, a potted plant beside his name plate and pens placed in a mug with ‘best doctor’ written across it. On the other side of the room is  the bed where his patients sit and lay to be checked. Beside it is a door, it must be where he does his simple operations, where I’ll find myself soon.

“And how are you doing?” he asked, too cheery for the kind of clinic he has.

“I’m alright, I guess” I responded.

“You know, I had a patient with the same last name as yours. I forgot her name but the last name is something that is hard to forget. It’s…”a pause. Then “It’s unique” then gave a small laugh. “I mustn’t talk about other patients but the name is really different and when she entered she looked very problematic, I won’t forget her expression.”

As he said that I thought, who wouldn’t look problematic when entering this clinic.

“Though, I don’t really remember her face well, now that’s weird, isn’t it? Anyway, it must only be a coincidence. I believe that was about 6 years ago?” he continued while looking upwards and tapping his pen on his chin.

“8 years, actually” I said “or maybe 9”

The doctor stopped and looked at me, puzzled. “I’m sorry, were you the same . . .”

“No” I cut him short. “That’s not me. It’s my first time here”

“I see. Of course, as it says here in your record” he gave a smile. “Should have checked it first. I apologize about that.”

I said nothing, just gave a little nod. He went behind his desk and was about to say something when I started to talk.

“That person” a pause and he looked at me not expecting I was to say more. “That person is now 27 years old. Married. Happily? I don’t know, that’s not for me to say. She has a child now too. A little girl, aged two. She isn’t problematic now” pause, then ” I think.” And I ended it with a small smile.

The doctor stared at me for quite a long time, as if studying me, looking for words to say but only asked, “and you?”

“Me?” quite taken aback “well, I’m only 22 years old, much older when that person first came here. I still go to school, taking a major I don’t really enjoy. I have a boyfriend which I’m lucky enough he didn’t left me because of this. And also, obviously, I am here with the same reasons as that person, when she came here. Also, still problematic.

“I see” he said, I guess it’s his automatic response. Then, “well, miss Shawldovel, you don’t have to worry because I am here to help” and gave a warm smile. “Let’s start by staking a seat and talking about this thoroughly.”

I nodded. Took the seat in front of his table and fiddled with my fingers.

“First question,” he said. “Are you really sure about this?”

I stared at him in the eye and said a serious yes.

“Okay then, the real first question” as he clicked his pen, placed it on my record and looked at me,

” How long have you been pregnant and what procedure do you want me to do?”


©O.S.C Delson


Author’s note below! 😀


It was a warm afternoon at the park when seven year old John thought of eating ice cream, just like any other kid, for dinner. He tugged his mum’s hand and asked if they could have it for later.

John is an only child and his parents thought of him as a miracle, a gift given by a god – which god? They didn’t care as they prayed to a lot of them. They had a hard time of conceiving a child, it took them six years of trying after their marriage before they had John. They wanted a second child, but it would take them another six years and by the time they reached sixty they would still be working for their child’s education. They think of John so dear and very precious they don’t want to break his heart, even on the smallest things, well at least not by them. Instead of directly saying no to him, they would look for another way to tell him. This time, they told John to ask the nice stranger sitting on the bench if they could have ice cream for dinner.

The stranger was a man in his late twenties, but by the dark bags under his eyes, roughly shaven beard, and eyes staring blankly at nothing, he looked like he’s in his forties. John approached him, staring at his feet, nervously and said,

“Excuse me, mister?” he paused, hesitantly continued as the man stared at him, “can I ask you if we, me and my mum and dad, could eat ice cream for dinner?”

Confused by the boy’s odd question he noticed John’s mum and dad gesturing nos behind the boy, shaking their head and gesturing X’s with their arms and fingers. Understanding what the parents were trying to say he looked at John with sad eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry kid, but, not tonight. Now go back to your parents.” he replied.

Disappointed, John returned to his mum and dad and told them what happened. His mum knelt, ruffled his head, “maybe next time honey,” she said and smiled so sweetly.

“Well, you see son,” his dad said, looking at his son with stern eyes as if he was about to say a lesson to learn, “some people are just jerks. Don’t worry, we’ll have ice cream next time and we’ll have your favorite” his dad continued as they walked to the car, little did he know the stranger heard his remark.


Months have passed and now comes John’s favorite month, October. He loves Halloween very much and can’t wait to wear his costume this year. He wanted to be a zombie, even before the year started. He is obsessed with it; he watched movies about them all the time, pretended to be like them, and even used his mum’s make-up to look like them, it was so silly but nonetheless his mum and dad didn’t care as long as he’s happy.

John was accompanied by his mum and dad go trick or tricking in their neighborhood until it was late in the night. After a tiring evening they went to the park to walk as they always did.

“Dad! Look how much candy I got!” John said excitedly, hopping and skipping everywhere.

“I know buddy, but you’ve got to wait for tomorrow before you eat all of those” replied his dad.

“I know dad, all this candy won’t be enough to fill my hungry tummy, I would need a whole lot more than these ones. I’m so hungry I can eat a whole horse!”

Mum and dad laughed at their son’s silly remark, wondering where he learned it. “Of course sweetie, and what would you want to eat for supper to fill your hungry tummy?” asked mum as she tickled Johns tummy.

John laughed very hard and tried to break free from his mum’s grasp. “Well,” John said, and after a few second of catching his breath, he continued, “since I’m a zombie I want to eat human flesh and braaaaaains!” then he started to act like the flesh-eating monster he pretends to be; his left leg limping, his head tilted to the right, and arms stretched in front of him.

“What?!” said his mum, wide-eyed shocked, “but . . But, ” she couldn’t continue and just looked at her husband. After a few minutes of silence as his mum and dad trying to recover from his words, his dad spoke, “Son, well. . .” He paused, looking for the right words to use, “we can’t really e-” before dad could continue mum tugged dad’s elbows to halt him. He looked at his wife and saw she jerked her head in the direction of a man sitting on a bench, understood what his wife is telling him he returned to his son, “what I was trying to say was that we can’t really tell. Your question is too hard for us, why don’t you ask the nice man over there and ask him” and he pointed at the stranger.

John once again approached the stranger sitting on the bench. The stranger was a man with a nice suit, clean shaven face and nicely styled hair. He was reading a book when John was in front of him.

“Good evening mister, ” said John, again nervous and staring at his feet. When the man raised his head, he was a bit surprised with what he saw, “whoa there buddy, you scared me there for a second, ” he chuckled, “now, what can a nice man do for you?” he finally asked.

“Well mister,” he paused, raised his head and looked at the man “can we, me and my mum and dad, eat human flesh and brains tonight for dinner?”

Taken aback from the boy’s question he noticed a couple behind the kid shaking their head and with their arms and fingers in X’s. The man understood what the couple was trying to say, but as he stared at the couple he realized something, wait a minute, he thought, those were the same parents as before. He looked back at the kid, no wonder this kid looks familiar, I didn’t notice it because of his costume. Remembered what the dad said about him, he smiled at John and said enthusiastically, “Well of course buddy! I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. You can eat all the flesh, you want, whenever you want to. Now go to your parents and get that brain! You deserve it.” and grinned so wide one can see his gums.

“Really mister?” exclaimed John, couldn’t believe what he heard, for this was the first time a stranger, from all the other hundred strangers he asked before, to say yes. “Thanks a lot mister!” he ended and started to run to his parents.

“Hey kid” the stranger called out. John stopped and looked back, “and cool costume by the way, you look great on it” and gave the boy a thumbs-up. This made John smile from ear to ear, “thank you!” he shouted back and waved before returning to his mum and dad.

The man stared at the kid as he went to his parents to tell them what happened, he then saw the baffled faces of the boy’s parents that turned into worry and so he smiled. “Good luck with that. That’s what you get for spoiling your kid, ” he said to himself, “Jerks” he added before returning to his book, happy with his small revenge.


Mum and dad, rather than annoyed, were very worried. What are we supposed to do? Thought dad. He took a peek at the rear view mirror and saw John, soundly sleeping.

“We could buy chicken, pork, or maybe beef in exchange of…of well you know” said dad to mum.

“Where are we going to buy those at this time? It’s already late and the nearest store is too far, ” she paused and gave out a sigh, “way too far” she repeated as her brows knitted. They love their son too much they just couldn’t say no to him, it’s ridiculous. Seeing their child sad is just too much for them.

“I’ll find a way,” said dad “there’s got to be something out there.”


As soon as mum and John stepped out of the car dad went off immediately. “Where’s dad going, mum?” asked John watching the their car drive off.

“Well sweetie,” spoke mum with a smile, trying to cover her nervousness, “dad’s going to look for. . . for some ‘meat’ for our little precious zombie” and mum pinched her son’s cheeks

“Really mum?” who still couldn’t believe that it really is happening.

“Yes, dear, so go inside, take off your costume, and take a bath. By the time you’re done supper will be ready.”

John immediately went inside and up the stairs, two steps at a time, leaving his mum in cold sweats. An hour after dad came back home with a bag full of meat. He went to the kitchen and saw mum preparing to cook. He looked at her in the eye intently, as if trying to relay a message and mum nodded like she understood it. Dad left the kitchen without saying a word, leaving mum to do her work. Mum cooked like her life depended on it, she put on her best skills trying to make the meat look like some fresh flesh his son wanted. She poured red sauce made of only she knows what to make it look like blood and then she was done. “Honey! John! Supper’s ready! Come down and help mum prepare the table!” she shouted.

John came straight down from his room and into the kitchen with a grin on his face. “Careful dear, now place the plates and forks in the table” said mum.

As John was preparing the table dad walked in the kitchen and said, “oh boy, that smells delicious! I wonder what mom cooked?” trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Geez dad, you know what it is. You’re the one who brought it” John said followed by small laugh.

“You’re right, son, so you better eat a lot because dad had a hard time looking for it” and sat at the head of the table. Mum gave dad a nervous glace but dad just dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“Really? So where’d you get it dad?”

“It doesn’t matter son, now eat your food and don’t leave any in your plate”

John smiled, “yes sir!” and gobbled his food as fast as he could.

“These taste so good mum! Very delicious!” said John while munching.

“Slow down sweetie, you might choke on your food. We have a lot left, so you don’t have to rush yourself.” replied mum

“And don’t talk when your mouth is full son, where are you manners?” dad continued.

“Sorry dad” and John continued to eat till he couldn’t put a spoon in his mouth.

“I’m so full my tummy hurts!” John exclaimed, “I didn’t know flesh could taste this good”

Taken aback mum tried to say something encouraging, but could only utter, “yeah. . . Yeah sweetie. You’re right.” and she tried to show a smile but failed to.

“Don’t worry son, we’ll have some of this when you grow up” Dad said to distract John from his mother. Mum looked at dad with fear in her eyes. Why does he have to say that, she thought, I just hope we could get through this without problem.

Mum tried to push all her problems aside and smiled, “since you’re done sweetie, go upstairs and brush your teeth then go to bed.”

“But mom,” John tried to argue.

“No buts sweetie, it’s already deep in the night and you have to wake up early tomorrow”

“Come on now son, obey your mother” dad said.

“Ahw,” John dropped his head “fine” he added then went to his room with heavy steps.


John did what he was told. Brushed his teeth, said his prayers and went to bed. A few hours later, he woke up. Something’s not right, John wondered, I feel like I forgot something. He twisted and turned in his bed trying to remember what it was that he forgot. He stared outside his window, into the fullness of the moon and that’s when it hit him. “BRAINS!” he blurted out loud, then covered his mouth with his hands, praying it didn’t wake his mum and dad. Silly me!, he thought, How could a zombie forget his favorite part.

He got out of his bed and went to the door. He pressed his ear to the door and listened intently for a sound, when he heard nothing he opened his door to a little gap and peeked through it. When he saw nothing but darkness, he tiptoed his way out of the room and down the stairs, not wanting to wake his mum and dad. When he got to the hallway, he saw a dim light coming from the kitchen, he quietly walked towards it and heard a voice – it was mum and dad.

He pressed his back beside the kitchen door and tried to listen to his mum and dad’s conversation. “How could we do that? To lie to him” mum said, trying hard not to cry.

“Now, now honey. You have to relax, you know we had to do it” dad said trying to calm his wife.

“But he isn’t in the right age.” argued mum.

“Just think of it as something we did in the old times. We just did it earlier to him. Now,” trying to change the topic “let’s just forget about this and why don’t we have some dessert, right honey?”

“I guess you’re right,” then mum let out a heavy sigh “just let me go get it”

Dessert? We have dessert? They didn’t tell me we have one, John thought. Then he heard a knife being sharpened, now a knife? His eyes widened with excitement, it must be cake! This is so unfair! They’re eating cake without me! I can’t let that happen.

He entered the kitchen with his arms crossed to the chest, head bent down, looking at the floor, just like how he saw in his cartoons when a character is about to reveal something it knows, and said in his best authority voice,

“Mum. Dad. You see,” he paused as if thinking of what to say next, “what I see is very. . . unfair. The both of you eating dessert without me, that is.” he shook his head as he spoke and made a tsk sound three times before he continued, “So I have decided to have a piece of. . . “ He raised his head and pointed his finger at the table, “that ca-” before he could continue, he saw what really was on the table. It was his first time seeing something like that. It was horrifying, it frightened him too much he couldn’t get his eyes away from it. His mum tried to hide it with her back, but it was too late, for John had seen it very clearly.

It was the stranger’s head.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi! So this is a story that I was suppose to make into a short skit but since filming requires a lot of things [actors, locations, equipment, props, costumes, time, and money] I decided to make it into a short story instead. KINDLY do excuse my English, grammar, and use for punctuation, it isn’t my first language and I am not good at it. Thank you for the patience and time.

© O.S.C.Delson