Mistress of the Dark

by Sephera Giron

Wednesday August 10

She’s watching me.

She’s always watching me.

But that’s ok.  It gives me someone to talk to sometimes.

I put her in a chair by the TV so that I can see her.  She looks elegant sitting there; black netted fabric loosely draped around her, eyeless face watching me, the white of her bones gleaming.

I’ve found that if I move her around too much, parts of her break off.  She’s even lost a couple of teeth over the years. 

Well, I guess a skeleton can’t help it. 

I like having her around though.  Gives me someone to talk to besides the cat.  She’s like part of the family.  I even give her a hat for every season.  Right now, she has a wreath of sunflowers on her head, like a Summer Queen. 

Sometimes I think it must be so nice to be dead.  To be just a skeleton in someone’s living room.  Watching the world go by, with no stress.  No one telling you what to do and how to live your life.

Once in a while, though, I get lonely which is also why I’m starting this diary.  The big city is so different from the little town where I grew up.  I was just a country bumpkin I guess.  It seems like that is how people peg me, these days. 

“Hi, I’m Abby!”  I’ll say, sticking my hand out, strong and firm like a big city girl.

“Hey, Abby.  Where you from?”

“Littletown, New York”.

This is always followed by a pause from the Big City types.  It’s like they are doing a computer search in their brain, trying to figure out if I’m worth talking to or not.  Some will be polite and stay for a bit, to see if there’s more there.  Others will just plain dismiss me.  I guess it depends on what they want, what they are looking for.

It’s hard to make friends in this city.

Of course, it was hard to make friends in Buttfuck, Nowhere, too.

I guess I’m just not a good friends making type, though when I have friends, I’m pretty good to them.  I think.

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