Letting Go

     The room is spinning. My mind is hazy with grief and the taint of alchohol. I chuckle under my breath as I light the candles around this so called ‘spirit board’. A bunch of hocus pocus, but at this point, I need closure any way I can get it. It’s been two months since her death, and I just cannot get over it. I’ve tried everything. Talking to friends, going to counseling, even going to church holds no respite for me. So, here I am. Crawling into a bottle of whiskey, with this spirit board in front of me. Life truly is amazing. What else could it possibly throw at me?

     I take another swig from the bottle. The sting is starting to wear off each swig, letting me know to stop drinking. I cap the bottle and toss it aside, as I pull the planchette out of the dinky little cardboard box. Always frugal, I found it at some yard sale. Paid a whole two dollars for it. Lets see if my investments come to fruition. A man can hope. I hiccup and put the heart shaped piece of whatever material it is onto the cardboard spirit board.

     They told me to never use it alone. ‘Don’t do it, you’ll become possessed by something less than friendly!’ they said. To hell with them. What is the absolute worst that could happen? I summon a demon and it oppresses, or posses me? At this point, I don’t even care. I just want to say goodbye. I never had the chance to say goodbye. Its probably one of the worst feelings that a person could ever feel. No matter, we’re about to find out if the paranormal is real.

     Placing my hands on the little plank, I took a deep breath. I was always a skeptic to this sort of thing, but my nerves were going off, as if something were wrong. Time to stow that shit, I tell myself. Don’t be a pussy and just start asking questions.

“Hello…?” Well, that wasn’t a question, but it was good enough, I guess. I sit in the quiet for what seems like an eternity.

     And then jump ten feet in the air when my cell phone starts ringing. Holy shit, that was unexpected. Its Kylie’s mom calling. Probably to check up on me. She’s been very concerned for my health after the accident. She thinks I blame myself for the dumb, scum-fuck drunkard that t-boned us while five times over the state limit. I don’t blame myself for his actions. I blame myself for not letting her drive my car like she wanted.

“Anon, hey, its Michelle.” Kylie’s mom says.

“Hey miss W.” I reply. I still didn’t feel comfortable going on a first-name basis with her mother. It felt wrong.

“Just checkin up on you. You doing okay?” She asks. Concern leaks in her voice, and I pick it up immediately. My eyes drift to the spirit board sitting in front of me and I shake my head. I stand up and leave the room, closing the door quietly.

“Oh, I’m okay. Just studying. Trying to experience new things and the like. How about you? You keeping on keeping on?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that I’ve been plastered for quite some time now. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

“Oh, I’m fine. Drew is taking it harder than I am, he coops up inside the garage and just works on his car. He says he’s fine, but I can read the writing on the wall. I just don’t want you two to keep blaming yourselfs. Just don’t do anything rash, okay honey?” My almost mother-in-law lectures. I sigh.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do my best. You take care of yourself too, okay?”

“I will, take care.”

“See ya.” Click.

     The sound of silence is loud. The ticking of the faux-wood clock on the entertainment center in the living room the only thing to be heard. I just stand there and think if what I’m doing is the best way to mourn. Is this going too far just to say goodbye? No. I gotta stop thinking this type of stuff and keep my resolve. I slap my cheek, trying to sober up just a little bit. I turn and go back into the spare-room-turned-supernatural-room. The ends justify the means I tell myself as I take my seat back in front of the board.

     And that’s when I notice that the planchette was moved. I had it clearly sitting in the middle. I remember so, because thats what the instructions said! It was now clearly sitting on top of both H and I. You can’t make this shit up. My head gets hot and I get a shiver down my spine. This is some freaky stuff. Am I going crazy? Putting my hands back onto the talkpiece, I take a deep breath and get ready to talk some more.

“Is there anyone here?” I ask. Slowly, I feel the planchette begin to move. My hands are cold.


“Holy shit. Uhhh. How are you?” The question just pops into my mind. This is surreal. I know I’m not moving this. Its a bit cold, though. I need to set the thermostat when i get around to it.


“For what?”


     Did…Did it just spell sex? What the fuck am I talking to? This can’t be right. Maybe I’m talking to one of those sex demons that people talk about existing. That’d be kind of bad. I would not like that at all, to be honest.

“Very funny. You’re quiet the comedian.”


“Then who are you, huh? Some suck-u-bus?”


“Then who?” I ask. My legs are trembling now, from nervousness or excitement, I can’t tell anymore. The planchette doesn’t move for awhile. As I’m about to get up and leave, it jerks violently to spell out


“A-Are you telling me to go to the bedroom? What for?”


     My hands are shaking. I’m just sitting here, looking at the ‘Goodbye’ on the board. The room is no longer cold. Its as if someone had closed an open window. I got a goodbye, but not necessarily the one I thought I would get. This thing wants me to go to the bedroom. My logic is screaming to run, but my curiosity compels me to get up and check it out. So I do just that. I stand up, and leave the room. Its still dead quiet, but there’s a different vibe. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though. The apartment is immaculate, the result of my need for everything to be in order. But pictures were sideways, doors left ajar. Only my bedroom door was closed still. My hand trembles on the doorknob. God only knows whats on the other side, but the mix of adrenaline and fear in my blood sends my stomach churning like there’s no tomorrow.

     I open the door and see nothing. My room is exactly how it is supposed to be. Bed made, monitor off. But that’s when I see the bare feet on the floor with the tattered white dress hanging over the bottom of the chair. Someone is sitting in my computer seat with it turned away from me. I’m quite frozen seeing this. The room becomes ice cold as I slowly and cautiously venture to the chair. I spin the chair around, and there she is. Kylie. Clear as day. A devilish smile spread across her face.

“K-Kylie, what are you–” is all I manage to say, as she suddenly rushes forward into me, and disappears.

     My insides begin to burn as I double over and fall onto my knees. The sharp pain in my knees is dulled by the sheer feeling of horniness that rushes across me. I want sex. It almost physically hurts. My pants become quite tight as thoughts and scenes of the love me and my Kylie used to have rushes into my head. Her soft, porcelain skin. Her sensual green eyes that I used to say looked like emeralds just to get a laugh out of her. The way she gave the best blowjob I had ever received before. The sounds she used to make when I plowed into her from behind. It was too much, having this all hit me at once. It was as if my sexual life with her was flashing before my eyes.

     I had to take my pants off. This was simply an assault on my senses, and I needed to feel free and less restricted. If this is the possession I was warned about, then I have been enlightened. But something tells me this isn’t what people meant. As my pants come off, so does my boxers. Whiskey dick is obviously not a problem now, as my member pulses with my heartbeat. I have never been so rock hard in my life. A shower is in order to maybe clear my head of this haze of lust that has came over me. Atleast my mind is still my own, and I have control. Its almost like a fever.

     My stomach flips and flops about as if I were talking to a crush I once had. My libido, simply put, was going haywire. My boner might as well have been a rock. And I felt hot. Hot and bothered. I wasn’t breathing, but panting. It was as if I had just got done with a marathon of foreplay, and was dying for the main course. I stumble to the bathroom and turn the lights on. Cold shower, I thought. That would do it. I hop in, and put my hands against the wall as the cold water sends a jolt to my senses as it cascades down my bare back. The water does nothing to cool my head when I stare into the shower head. And then the cold hands wrap around me and caress my chest. I feel something cold press against my backside and turn around.

     I’m greeted by seeing faded brown hair. She was leaning her head on my back, right below my right shoulder. I just stand there, dumbstruck. This can’t be happening right? I’m being haunted by the spirit of my fiancee. Is it even possible? These questions run through my head, but then everything stops.

“I missed you, Anon.” she speaks. She sounds sad, melancholy.

“Kylie. Am I dreaming? How are you back? What is wrong with me?” I manage to gasp out, still in shock

“No, Anon. You aren’t dreaming. You invited me in using the board. They are portals you know. You’re lucky I closed the door for you. There are all meanings of twisted beings just waiting to climb through. You always had a problem closing doors behind you. Oh, how I’ve missed you, Anon.” She explains, her voice still sullen.

“You didn’t answer my question, Kylie. What have you done to me?” I ask again.

“Your lust is maintaining me right now, giving me form. Don’t you like to see me again?” She asks, as I turn around to look at her face. Its still the same, although her eyes have a more colder, sadness to them.

“Of course I do. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. I mean for Gods’ sake, I used spirit board! You know how critical I am of that stuff. But I’m glad you’re here. Is there any way you can stay, or are you just here to say goodbye?” I don’t know how I’m forming these sentences. These fevered memories are just getting worse, and I’m seeing stuff I’m pretty sure I didn’t do.

“Yes there is. You just have to keep me supplied with your seed. I regret not making love more with you. That keeps me tied to this world. So come with me to our bed, and let me show you how much I’ve missed you, my love.” she brightens up considerably, and leans in for a kiss. I kiss her back, her mouth is warm and wet, and tastes sweet.

      Our lips leave each other, and she pulls the shower curtain back. She gestures for me to leave, and I do. She turns the shower off and hops out as well. I extend my hand and she takes it. It’s cold. I lead her into our bedroom. Picking her up is easy, she weighs nothing at all it feels like, I throw her onto the bed and climb onto her, kissing every inch of her up to her face. Her skin is cold, but its a small price to pay for the chance to have the love of my life back. I grasp and the sides of her white dress, and start yanking it down her body. Her breasts exposed, I couldn’t help myself but to suckle on the soft mounds of flesh. A moan escapes from her lips. I keep dragging the dress down. She isn’t wearing any underwear, thats fortunate. Finally I get the dress off of her and toss it to the side. As soon as it hits the ground, it evaporates. A slight white smoke lifts up into the air and dissipates.

     I kiss her feet, kiss up her leg, kiss her thighs, and finally begin to tease her muff with my tongue. What used to be pretty and pink is now a slight shade of purple. Weird how death does things now. However, her insides are warm, and they taste heavenly. I eat as if I haven’t eaten in days. Her moans are loud now, as her hips twitch around my head, and she bucks occasionally. And then, my face is splashed by the warm nectar of her girlcum. I lick my lips, and continue up. She’s blushing, I think. I smile and begin to nuzzle her neck, lightly nibbling on it.

“Enjoying yourself?” I ask, too lost in my own lust to hear her reply. I kiss her deep, and position myself to enter into her. After so long, it will be good to be in a familiar place.

     I plunge into her, and she gasps into my ear. I feel her frigid legs wrap around my waist as I thrust into her deep each time. Its a very moderato tempo, and I’m enjoying every second of it. My lost love seems to be loving it too, since her moans have practically turned to howls.

“Turn me over. Fuck me like when we first fucked.” She growls into my ear. I oblige her and flip her over onto her knees and put her face into the pillow.

     Getting behind her, I can’t help but slap her ass. She squeaks into the pillow, and I ready myself. Then I start just fucking her. Hard. Fast. The lewd slapping sound echoes in the once quiet house as I lose myself. Red haze fills my vision as I have probably the roughest sex of my life. All of my sadness, anger, regret, poors out of me. After this, I could probably forgive the asshole who killed her in the first place. I’d still hate his guts though.

“Oh God, Anon. I’ve missed this, ah, so, ah, much!~” She exclaims, her head down and ass up as I plow right into her.

“Get used to it, its going to be happening more.” I claim, nearing my own peak

“Good! I regret not having more sex with you in the first place! Lets do it every–Ahhh!” she can’t finish. She cums, and her muff tightens around my own member and throbs. Which in turn causes me to pop into her. I yank her hips back hard and cum as deeply as I can. She left me before, she won’t leave me again.

    My mind clears up. Everything seems good again. The heat is gone, and I’m panting now because I’ve had some of the roughest sex of my life. I plop down besides my ghostly fiancee and turn over. She’s staring at me, a warm smile spread across her face. I smile back at her and lean forward for a kiss. We give a deep passionate kiss, and I pull back. Tired.

“Go to sleep my love. I’ll just be here when you come back.” she sweetly tells me, putting her hand on my cheek. I nod. I close my eyes, yet can still see her wonderous face in my mind. I was by far the luckiest man alive.

“How could you be able to come back, Kylie? I thought you were–“

“Shh, shh, shh. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow. Just sleep.” She says, putting her index finger over my mouth to stop me. I was okay with this. It couldn’t be too bad.

     They always said the hardest part of mourning was letting go. Now, I didn’t have to let go. I would be with her forever now. In this life, and the next.

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2 thoughts on “Letting Go

  1. I wanted to have a go at the rthym that you write with, making a snide comment about conjunctions being free for use, but… I dunno. I think it actually works as a style for this piece. The choppy, short sentences really make you feel your guy’s tension.
    Which brings me to the thing I hate the fucking most: copping out and using “Anon” for a name.
    It’s like I’m reading a story just for someone to grab me by a hook and yank me out of the world.
    If you can name your other characters, then you can name you MC. Shit. Even “John Doe” is better than Anon.
    Your reader’s egos aren’t so pathetic that they can no longer insert themselves into the story if the MC has a real person name.
    However, I really liked how you decided to go with the horror story kinda genre, rather than KC’s smut.

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