Too Soon

We could’ve worked out.
I thought we were perfect for each other.
But you knew too much,
Too soon.
You found out my secret,
My darkest secret.
And now you have to pay the price.

When I first saw you,
I knew you would be the only one for me. 
Getting you wasn’t easy.
It was more of a possession.

I stalked you.
I visited you in your dreams.
I inserted myself into your daily life.
I became your sickness,
And you loved every bit of it.

I bound our souls together,
As one,
And we were doomed from there.

It wasn’t a mistake at all.
It just didn’t go as planned.
You became too involved with me,
And found out about my past lovers
And their fates.

I held you tight in your final hours.
You simply weren’t supposed to find out.

As I plunged the knife into your chest,
Through your heart,
I released you.

I didn’t want to do this to you
Because you were the one.
But you couldn’t be subjected to who I truly am.

The Sick Wife

There’s something within me that is pure evil, but I can’t pinpoint what it is

I am pulled out of my delusional state by the cry of my baby girl, Somi at 7:04 A.M.. I slide my slender body out of the royal king sized bed and place my small tan toes on to the chilled floor. I guide myself over to Somi’s cream bassinet. Her tan face lights up with a smile once she sees her sickened momma. Her big, brown eyes are glowing with the glory of her father and burning of the evilness of her mother. 

“Is someone hungry or did they just miss their momma?” I coo as I reach down to place her on my hip and pinch her puffy cheeks. She’s a sign that I am somehow still human. We exit the bedroom and stroll down the hallway, heading towards the kitchen. The kitchen had been newly renovated to model the kitchen in Sia’s Los Feliz home. I place Sonni on the marble countertop as I swing to the fridge to grab a pre-made smoothie bowl. Somi eagerly watches and bounces as I sway towards her with the bowl. The second it is in front of her, she digs right. I chuckle as I leave her to own devices, she’s smart enough to know not to leave from the counter. But I wouldn’t be too upset if she somehow falls and cracks her skull in half. I slip out onto the balcony connected to the kitchen. The sun is already rising and I can feel the warmth on my skin, warming my cool body and awakening the evil within. I turn to see my daughter, still tearing away at the smoothie bowl. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be like me, an evil woman who desires pain and destruction within the world. I hope I never have the urge to take it out on her.

As I zoom out, the sound of keys clashing against one another and the front door closing in the distance snaps me back to reality. In a haste, I exit the balcony, making sure to lock it behind me. When I turn around, standing at the countertop in his black Lemaire suit, running his fingers through Somi’s hair is Roman, my husband. He is the exact copy of River Phoenix, right out of the film Running on Empty. His aura is dark and even though he was playing with Somi, his crisp, blue eyes were locked on me. Whenever he looks at me, I feel like he can look into my soul and see how disturbed I truly am.

“Why are you always doing that?” I stroll over to the counter, avoiding eye contact and picking up the bowl. 

“Doing what, Baby? I brought you breakfast from Sarabeth’s.” He places a large bag onto the counter and begins taking out containers of food. I place the bowl at the bottom of the sink. I take Somi off the counter and walk her over to her walker in one of the corners of the living room. As I walk with her, an urge, an idea, sneaks into my mind. I imagine myself throwing Somi across the living room with so much force that she dies on impact. I clinch her tightly as I drag my mind back into reality. I sit her in the walker and she touches my face with her little face and smiles. She must know.

Roman is watching me, analyzing my actions with our daughter. His stone cold face doesn’t turn when I catch him. I walk over to him as Somi zooms around the living room. 

“I was planning to cook breakfast after I fed Somi and got myself together.” Before I could continue, Roman palms my face and pulls me into a kiss. He tastes like rock candy and is as harsh as winter winds. We met during university while I was studying English and he was studying Business. I was his tutor for one of his classes and the rest is history. Now, we live in a penthouse in New York City with a one year old daughter. I am an editor for a fashion magazine and he’s planning to take over his father’s business. He breaks away and licks his pink lips while analyzing me.

“It is ok, baby. The housekeeper will be over soon to take care of her and the house. There is a company lunch today and I’m bringing you along with me.” Ronan looks at his Rolex watch and back at me. “It’s almost 8 A.M., so I want you to eat something and take the next couple hours to get ready. We are leaving at 2:30 P.M..” I nod and give him the sweetest smile I could muster. “Don’t force it.”

It’s 2:11 P.M. and my curls are alive, my face is painted, and my dress from Saks is fitted onto my body. I feel human again. Roman is pacing back and forth in our bedroom, talking to his father. Roman is the heir of his father’s business and apparently this lunch is bigger than I thought it would be. I struggle to zip up the back of my dress and call for Roman. After a few moments, he comes into our walk-in wardrobe and dressing room, inspired by the one in Gisele Bündechen and Tom Brady’s Los Angeles home. I motion at the zipper and he strolls over, still on the phone with his father. He runs a finger down my spine, chilling my heated spirit. He zips me up and hangs up the phone on his father, putting it in his pocket. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder. We glare at each other in the mirror, taking each other in during this brief moment. Our relationship is still like we’re young, college students experiencing love for the first time. But deep down, I didn’t understand why he still stays with me after seeing my true form. I’ve cost him his life, his reputation and his career several times in the past. For example, I thought he was cheating a couple years back. I stormed into his office and exploded on him during one of his business proposals, threatening his life and embarrassing him. Turns out, the woman was only his business partner that he didn’t tell me about. Was I really at fault, though? 

“You’re the most gorgeous being I’ve ever seen.” Before I could respond, the housekeeper knocks on the door to inform us that our chauffeur had arrived. 

Lunch was at Mastro’s Steakhouse. A beautiful restaurant with outstanding atmosphere, savory food and delectable wine. Roman kept me glued to his side while he interacted with the guests. The visions, the sick, twisted visions, were slowly dancing in my mind as I thought about the amount of people I could kill within one minute with the sharp steak knives. I would grab Roman’s hand whenever it became too intense and I believe I grabbed his hand about twenty times within the three hour long lunch. I didn’t feel real at all. The lunch was officially over at 7 P.M. and the warm sun had started to go down, leaving me cold. The drive home was quiet, roman didn’t speak to me. Once we entered, Somi ran to us and Roman picked her up before I could. The housekeeper tells me that she made dinner and finished all her tasks. I dismissed her. I took a deep breath and decided I wanted to make brownies. 

Roman had put Sonmi down for bed and is now playing guitar on the couch. I watch him as the brownies cool on the stovetop. I scoop a piece out of the pan and center it on a plate. I take the plate with me as I sit beside Roman. He’s playing She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel, a song that he loves because it reminds him of me. 

“Roman.” He turns his head towards me and raises his eyebrows to signal that he’s listening. “Would you still love me, be married to me, if I was a monster? Would you still love me if I killed us both?” He looks at me, with blank eyes and kisses me softly. During our first month of dating, I had an episode where I lost control of myself and attempted to kill him with a butcher knife. He didn’t stop me, only waited for me to calm down and held me while I hysterically cried and apologized a dozen times.

“I chose you to be my wife, my life partner for eternity, baby.” His lips still linger on mine as I take in his words. “I would give you my beating heart if it meant not having to scrape your brain off the living room walls.” I sigh, the evil being within me sighs. That’s all I needed to hear. I stand up, with the plate in hand, and head back to the kitchen. I throw away all the brownies that were laced with rat poison before going back into the living room and falling deep into Roman’s arms.

The Green Light: Republished

  • I decided to edit a short story I previously published on this platform and here is the final results! I hope you guys enjoy it and I will be posting more regularly soon – Ari, The Paramour

Anxious. Anxious! — I’m terribly, terribly anxious. And you have the audacity to question my sanity, doctor? You think I’m deranged? Ha! What even are the requirements of being insane? Don’t I look like a stable woman? I’ve seen all the things the world has to offer and I’ve heard the voices from heaven and hell. And you — you, doctor! –You think I’m crazy? There are monsters out here killing, torturing and doing unspeakable things and you’re here questioning me and not them? Hmp! Fine, sit back and observe how calmly — collectively — I can tell you my bittersweet tale.

Now, Listen to me, I did love the man. I loved him so much that I bore him a little child, but he wasn’t completely innocent. You see, there was something about him that bothered me — angered me. What was it? Ah! It was his eye. When I first arrived at the ranch in New Jersey, surrounded by oak trees and right behind a bright, blue lake, he had opened the wooden door and looked at me– my heart soon froze over.  He had the eye of a beautiful, cold-blooded reptile, the kind that is able to kill you with one glare. But besides that, there was something else about his eyes that bothered me. What was it? It was the green light. Yes, yes, it was the green light! I saw, I felt malice and envy in his eyes and I knew it, I just knew — I had to lead him to his demise. Men like him can’t be roaming out in our streets, doctor. 

As months went by, I planned his joyful death while he planned our sorrowful wedding. You see, doctor, I never planned on marrying the man. I only agreed to the arrangement because I was with a child and I didn’t want her to be born out of wedlock. My parents raised me to be a good religious woman. Throughout our days, I would observe his ways from afar. From watching him drink his morning cup of green tea out of his favorite dark green tea cup to sitting on a log to see him chop down the oak trees with his rusty old axe while occasionally wiping sweat from his bushy, dark brown brows. I stalked and took in his every move like a fierce lion watching their upcoming prey. I wanted no mistakes to arise in my plan. When he noticed my deadly eyes on him, he would give me a heartfelt smile that made me sick to my stomach. This man was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in all of my twenty-three years of life.

Let me tell you about my pregnancy. It was a strange one, to say the least. Five months in, faint green lines began to form on my belly and spread like the roots of a tree. They terrified me. I applied stretch mark cream religiously, but they never went away. And the vomit, oh, the vomit, was pure green! Even if I strictly stayed away from green foods, green liquid would somehow always come out of me. I couldn’t wait to get this being out of me.

Unfortunately, our baby, my little rotten piece of joy, came before our wedding. She was my blessing from hell. Once she was placed in my arms I looked at her puffy, tan face — I looked into her brown eyes. And you know what I saw, doctor? I saw the green light — that damned green light! It took everything within me not to throw the child across the room and curse its existence. How could it be possible for her to take on his flaw? My first thought was to end her life right then and there, but I decided to let her live — it wasn’t her fault she inherited that flaw — it was her father’s. We named her emerald.

Now, doctor, let’s talk about my wedding day. My mind was set and the decorations were perfected. My dress was pressed and the guests were seated. Little emerald had on the cutest dark green dress — you should’ve seen her! Once my makeup was finished and my veil was sewn into my hair,  I looked into the mirror and I saw it — I saw the green light in my very own eyes. He had given it to me! How could this even be possible? I took exact precautions to prevent this, but here it is: rotting in my very own being. At that moment, I decided that it was time. It was time for him to meet his maker. I fished around the drawers and cabinets of the church for a knife — I found a hunting knife and a switchblade. I slipped it into my bridal garter and quietly searched for the man.

After a bit of searching, I found him. He was fixing up his white and green suit in a tall mirror, but stopped when he noticed me. What did he say? Oh! He called me darling and began to approach me before he noticed me pulling out the hunting knife. His facial expression hardens and he looks at the knife, then to me. He murmured something, but I wasn’t listening. I just attacked. I made a lunge at him with the hunting knife tightly in my hand, aiming at his neck. He moved out of my path of rage and grabbed me — throwing me against the wooden wall before running away down the hall towards the kitchen. I steadied myself and chased after him. Surprisingly, doctor, I was able to catch up with him. I leaped onto his back, wrapping my legs around his torso. I drove the knife into one of his broad shoulders and viciously pulled it out. I did this again — and again — and again until he fell to the ground. Oh, you should’ve seen him, doctor, his suit was covered in blood and he was filled with agony — so much agony! I couldn’t help, but laugh as he tried to crawl away from me. I shoved the knife in his back muscle as deep as it could go.

Don’t get me wrong, he put up a good fight, but it didn’t last long. He lied, sprawled out on the wooden kitchen panels, his white collar stained red and the green light shining bright — he had accepted his fate. His breathing was slowing down, but his strong eyes followed my every movement. I dropped the hunting knife and pulled the switchblade out and slowly kneeled on the ground next to him, letting the polluted blood soak my pure white wedding dress. He was such a beautiful creature and I adored him. But he must die — in agony. I gripped the switchblade in my right hand, held his chin with my left hand and drove the blade into his right eye. He hollered as I jammed and twisted the knife through the soft, squishy flesh of his eye. I swiftly took the blade out when I hit a bone and put it in his right eye, going through the same motions as I did with the left eye. He didn’t cry this time. I left the blade in his eye and looked at him. He was dead — he was beautiful — it wasn’t my problem anymore. 

My wedding dress and my veil was covered in cool blood — his blood. I turned around and saw my emerald. Her stuffed face was blank and her eyes were on her father’s corpse. But, doctor, I noticed — the green light — the green light was gone. It was gone! His demise caused the death of the green light! I also noticed — as she continued to look at her father’s body — that she was smiling — from ear to ear — she was smiling. I walked toward her and picked her up. She put her small hands on my face and gave me a soft kiss on my nose. She was thanking me for getting rid of our problem. I smiled and I began walking downstairs to attend my wedding. I couldn’t be late to my own wedding.

Now, doctor, do you still think I’m insane?


I am your housewife.

We’ve been married for three months at this point.

You’re wearing a classless suit, feeling like a real man.

I, standing in a short dress, with an apron around my small waist, am baking blueberry muffins.

I’m gorgeous, or at least I have been told. 

As I center a muffin on the plate, you sit on the couch, reading the daily paper.

I stroll over and hand you the muffin as I sit alongside you. 

I gaze, mindlessly, at you.

You’re gorgeous, or at least by society standards.

“Honey,” I began as he shifts his attention to me.

“Would you still love me, be married to me, if I was a monster? Would you still love me if I destroyed us?”

I don’t know how those words came out of me, but he accepted them and leans over to give me a kiss on my pink lips. 

“I chose you to be my wife for a reason.”

I blush and took the muffin away from him before he could eat it. 

Later that night,

I throw away the muffins that were laced with mercury.

He cancels my appointment to be locked away in a mental institution. 

I’m so glad he’s giving me another chance – giving us another chance.

Happy Holidays

I’m not the best at giving gifts. I actually hate giving gifts and the holiday season that is surrounded by gift-giving. However, I wanted to try for you. I spent days searching the stores for a suitable gift for you, maybe even weeks. However, a gift came to mind when I saw you getting close with one of my co-workers, Ottessa. 

Ottessa was a new girl to the company I worked at. She was always running copies for the boss, taking calls for the boss and having private lunches with him. Everyone in the office suspected they were fucking each other, but no one had the bravery to ask and confirm it. Ottessa was a siren and I suspected, after having her way with the boss, she moved on to my boyfriend.

I noticed their abnormal relationship after she took it upon herself to visit me at my residence. She didn’t have an invitation and I’m still unsure how she got my address. But once she entered my home and made eye contact with my boyfriend, I knew things would go downhill from there. After that event, the two had been getting lunch together and she would even come over when I wasn’t at home. Also, My boyfriend had been less affectionate and would claim to be working ‘overtime’ at his job. 

I am definitely not stupid, but I love playing as if I am. So I let things slide and just put on a smile as I planned my gifts for the holiday season. 

The day of Christmas had arrived and I noticed my boyfriend had been feeling down lately. Ottessa has quit her job at my company and hasn’t been seen for days. Everyone at the office assumed she just ran off with some married man for the holidays and might appear again soon. 

On Christmas morning, I woke up early to make my boyfriend breakfast and served it to him in bed. He gave me a half-hearted smile and began eating.

“Would you like your gift now? I’m super excited to show you the gift I got you.” My boyfriend nodded and I ran to the living room to get his present from under the tree. The present was kind of heavy, around eleven pounds, and was very difficult to retrieve and wrap, but I had to do it for him. To show him how much I loved him. 

I placed it in his lap and he immediately began tearing at the wrapping paper. He stopped, in horror, when he realized what the present was. In a glass case, was Ottessa’s head, centered with her eyes scooped out of her eye sockets. Her eyes were placed in her opened mouth, on her dry tongue. On top of her bouncy, black curls was a note that said, Merry Christmas, Honey. He slowly looks up at me with his eyes filled with fear and his mouth open, unable to speak. 

I just wanted to give him a gift he would remember for years to come. And I think I succeeded. 

Dark Entity

During my childhood, I used to be scared of the dark.

Every child was at some point.

But I was particularly scared of a dark corner in my room.

Right between my white dresser and the pink wall across from my bed.

The darkness always confused and scared me.

Confused me because I felt like there was something there,

Scared me because I knew something was there.

From time to time, it would come out,

And stroke my dark hair while I was sleeping.

My parents reassured me that it was my grandma who passed when I was young.

But I knew it wasn’t her,

It couldn’t had been.


As an adult,

I travel through my life

Looking for the person in the shadow.

Looking for dark entities to make me feel like a child again.

Dark entities to make me feel safe and loved.

Over time,

I realized I need to become that dark entity.

The one who will love and protect me from the scary world we live in.

If I don’t love or protect myself first, who will?


“Why isn’t anyone listening to me? That is not my family! That isn’t my baby! They’ve been replaced, that’s not the child I gave birth to two months ago! Ok, since you’re having a hard time understanding me, I’ll tell you my story and what’s going on all over again.”

“I married my real husband, Freddie Taylor, on May 24th, 2014; it was a nice spring wedding. The wedding was rushed, only because I was with child and didn’t want it to be born out of wedlock; my parents are religious and pretty strict about things of that sort. However, before my wedding and before I found out I was pregnant, I got into a really bad car accident, which led to brain trauma. The pregnancy was a normal one, with normal symptoms and with a normal birth. My real daughter was born on her due date, December 21st, 2014 and her name is Amethyst Taylor.”

“The first night home was when the change, the switch, occurred. When I had fallen asleep, the real Freddie was next to me and the real Amethyst was sleeping in her bassinet inches away from our bed. After being asleep, I would say for four or five hours, I awaken to a baby crying. But the crying was coming from the living room and Freddie and Amethyst weren’t in the room. In a panic, I left the comfort of my bed and creeped downstairs, into the living room to find a man cradling a baby on the living room sofa. Hearing me enter the room caused the man to turn his head to face me and shine a bright, wide-toothed smile at me that made me sick inside.”

“But here’s the thing, Doctor, that wasn’t my baby or my husband on the sofa. It looked like them, yes, but it wasn’t.”

“What do you mean it wasn’t your baby or your husband, aurora?”

 “What do I mean? What do I mean it wasn’t them, Doctor? Why are you questioning me? Just listen to me and you’ll see.”

“As I stood in the hallway, the man turned his attention back to the baby. I took this opportunity to sneak back to the safe of my bedroom. I double checked the room, the bassinet and the bed, in hopes of finding my real husband and child, hiding within the room but to no avail. I laid in bed, questioning my sanity and if I’m dreaming. I know that isn’t my husband or child. They’re imposters dressed up as my real husband and child, but they don’t know I can see through their disguises.”

“Imposters with disguises?”

“Yes! Imposters with disguises, doctor! See you’re getting it!”

“After this incident, I felt a change within myself. I can’t describe it, but I just felt…off at my home and around the imposters. However, when I’m with other people, like family, friends and coworkers, I feel normal. I started changing my clothes a lot and talking out of context, to myself and others. Whenever I was ‘tasked’ to take care of the child, the imposter, I was always uncomfortable. Why would I take care of a child that isn’t mine? That isn’t my Amethyst? What if something bad happens to her or my husband? What if the imposters hurt them? Why are you questioning me, Doctor, and not getting the police involved to question them? “

“I have to do my job during the evaluation, aurora.”

“This stress about the state of my child and husband has made me depressed. I want my real family back, my real life back. I don’t want to keep going on with my life if I have to continue to live without my real family. My mental health hasn’t been doing well, which is why I am here now, but I reassure you that I will be perfectly fine once I find the real Freddie and Amethyst.”

“Based on this evaluation, your brain trauma and the symptoms you are describing to me, I am starting to believe you are suffering from Capgras Delusion.”

“Capgras Delusion? Can you explain further, Doctor?”

“Capgras Delusion is a delusional misidentification syndrome where individuals affected believe someone close to them has been placed with an exact duplicate. Some treatment options are validation therapy and antipsychotics”

 “Is that what you people think I have? I knew you all thought I was crazy, but I’m not. I know that isn’t my family!” Therapy and antipsychotics for treatment? There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m just a regular woman whose family has been taken away from her and replaced with imposters and I’m the problem? This is insane and you’ll hear from my lawyer about this.”

My Husband – Part Two

“Why would you marry a man that resembles the demonic force that tormented you as a child?”

Well, why do you drink water?
Why do you shower and cleanse yourself?
Why do you breathe?

You see, I can’t live without him.
I told the moon and the sun about him.
He visits my dreams, as I do his.
My soul, my body, my entire being is merged with his.

I haunt him.
Our spirits are bound together through an ancient blood ritual under the full moon.
He isn’t leaving me. Ever.

There is no ’til death do us part’
because I will always be with him and love him til and after death.
Our souls will continue to return to each other.

We are the demonic entity that haunted me as a child.

Caught up

I had just finished getting settled in our new penthouse when I heard you come in. I felt your energy linger closer and closer to me as I stood on the new balcony, overlooking the beach just below us. 

“You’re home early,” I said as his hands wrapped around my waist. 

“Yes, Gorgeous. I just had some business to finish up back home.” A smile grew on my face as I rest my head against his shoulders. I felt his lower body harden against me as one of his hands left my waist.

“Is that so?”  I teasingly press my hip against his.

“Mhm,” His voice is low and I feel his breath on my neck. “You know that’s a gun right, sweetheart?” 

Without giving me a second to process the words that came out of his mouth, I felt a hot piercing blow in my spine and my legs instantly dropped to the ground below. 

“You thought I wasn’t going to find out you were sleeping with my boss?” I look up at him, with pure hatred in my eyes, as he points the gun at my forehead.

“No, I thought you were too busy to care, asshole.” He rolls his eyes and slides the gun into his back pocket before grabbing my lifeless legs. He begins to pull me back into the penthouse. I try to fight, but I just accepted my fate. I knew I should’ve went for the receptionist at his job.


It’s the holiday season, a very special time of year for me. I remember my mother would always make a special meal for my father whenever their relationship got rocky. The meal would always snap him back in place and make him more in love with her.

She never gave me the recipe, but I remember a few key ingredients.

Parsley for better communication.

Paprika to heat up their relationship.

Celery to improve health.

Carrots for sweetness.

And a piece of meat for stability.

I always thought the store bought food wasn’t good enough for you, so I found alternatives like gardening and harvesting my fruits and vegetables. But you can’t garden or harvest meat.

As I pour a nice, big bowl of stew, you stay glued to your phone. A frown washes over across your face as you tell me about how your co-worker didn’t show up to work the past couple of days and how the entire office is worried about her. I placed the bowl in front of you as you continues to tell me the details.

“Enjoy.” Mindlessly, he dives his spoon into the stew and shovel it into his mouth. I observe as he chews and processes his food, slowly becoming more and more confused.

He puts down his phone and spoon and reaches into his mouth to pull out a human toe bone. As he analyzes the bone, he turns to me slowly and says, “how did you know?” With a smirk on my face, I shrug my shoulders and say,

“I just have good intuition, honey.”