Nebula

On the first night, I heard its breath. On the second night, I heard the quiet whispers, hushed and malicious. On the third, I heard the screams of others, not my family, for I am so alone. On the fourth, I had enough, I rose to confront the beast, only to lay back down.

For this is its nebula, I am its inhabitant, fueled only by its sinister breath.

On the fifth night, I felt its touch, caressed by the hand of death. On the sixth, it spoke to me "Why do you not look?" it asked. At the end of the first week, I wrote a note to my dear mother, demanding she come live with me.

On the eighth day, I entered my son's house, he was not there. Instead, a menacing, rotten creature, stripped of flesh held his bed. On the ninth, I found the creature was my son when it spoke, "Thank you for coming..."