Heroine of the horror story




I'm the heroine in a horror story.

You're driving.

The car's whizzing around the curves, 

past the jewel-green flats by the river, 

the sky huge, bounded by low clouds touching far mountaintops.

My gut is twisting.

My ears are burning with dread.

All my friends have become monsters one by one, 

no face is trusted to keep its shape.

I feel me changing, 

I'm becoming one, too. 

Have always been one.