Consume

She’s always been hungry. Not the kind of hunger that gnaws at your stomach-she’s never felt that. Her life is privileged, wrapped in comfort and security. On the outside, she seems like an ordinary girl with an ordinary life, living with her parents, who she’s grown attached to over the years, as children often do. But her craving goes deeper, darker, and more grotesque than anyone could imagine. It’s a hunger that starts in her heart, spreading through her thoughts like poison, whispering filthy things into her ear when she’s alone at night. It’s a shadow, always following her, growing, festering like a dark seed planted in her soul.

Her family, as ordinary as they seem, never truly understood her. They never saw the darkness lurking behind her bright green eyes, the shadow that clung to her pale skin. Her father, with his fiery temper, makes her feel like she’s constantly walking on eggshells. One wrong move and the shards embed themselves into her skin, bleeding out and sticking to her like a parasite.

One bright morning, she was holed up in her room, scrolling through her phone, trying to forget the hunger gnawing at her heart until her father started banging on her door, trying to wriggle his way through the lock.

"Abbey! Open your door! What are you doing in there?!" His voice boomed through the house, shaking the door.

She didn’t answer.

"I'm not asking again, come out right now, or else I'll remove this door and give you no privacy at all!"

She groaned, the sound of a spoiled brat, as she unlocked the door. "It's 10 in the morning, father."

He strode into the room, his eyes blazing with anger. "You've been hiding in here for days; it's unacceptable!"

She stayed silent, knowing any response would only fan the flames.

"What? Are you hiding a boy in here?" he sneered, his eyes narrowing as he searched the room. He checked under the bed, flung open the balcony door, and rummaged through her closet.

"Give me your phone! Who are you always talking to?"

He lunged for her phone, but she grabbed it first, clutching it to her chest. "Father, why don’t you trust me? I’m not hiding anything!"

His lips curled into a twisted smile. "Maybe I'll install cameras in your room and watch you every second, even when I'm at work."

Her heart stopped. "Father, you can't take away my privacy!"

His eyes darkened, his voice rising. "You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do! This is my house, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you in line!"

"Father, this isn’t fair!" she shouted back, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "You're suffocating me! I can’t live like this!"

His rage exploded. "Shut up! Do you think you have any control here? You’re just a child! You’ll do as I say; you don’t matter!"

Something inside her snapped. "Just because I’m a child doesn’t mean my opinions don’t matter!" she screamed back, her voice raw with desperation.

He pointed a finger at her, his eyes wide with rage as he stepped closer. "Don’t argue with me, Abbey. I am your father, and you will respect me."

"I have to respect you while I get not one ounce of respect?" she said, her voice trembling as she met his fiery red eyes. He loomed over her, his presence like a storm ready to unleash its fury as if he were seconds away from throwing her out.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I don’t want to hear another word. You will not talk to me like this. Reflect on your words and come out when you’re ready to apologize."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving her in crushing silence. She stood there, holding back tears as a wave of helplessness washed over her. She hated the way her father treated her, like a small doll in his dollhouse, controlled and powerless. Yet, the hunger inside her only intensified, gnawing at her insides–a cruel reminder of the isolation she was facing.

She hated the way her father materialized her, reducing her to something he could control yet never truly saw. He was never present, always distant, yet he spent his entire life working to provide for her, giving her a privileged life, spoiling her with everything a child could need–everything except the one thing she craved most: his attention.

And then there was her mother, the one person who had always been there for her. Abbey’s love for her was a deep, aching need. She wanted to protect her, to hold her close, to make sure nothing ever hurt her. She was her anchor, the one person who made her feel like she wasn’t completely alone in the world.

But that love twisted inside her, turning into something darker, something she couldn’t fully control. She imagined what it would be like to consume her mother, to take all of her warmth and love and make it a part of herself. It was a thought that both terrified and comforted her, a dark fantasy that she couldn’t escape.

Abbey adored her mother. Her love for her mother was a gnawing hunger, a need to be close to her, to consume every bit of comfort she offered. There were nights when she would lie awake, the darkness wrapping around her like a blanket, and imagine what it would be like to pull her mother inside herself, to carry her with her always, safe and protected within her flesh.

Abbey yearned to be nearer to her parents than anyone had ever been. She wants to consume them, live within their flesh, and comprehend what makes them tick. She pondered whether consuming them would expose their actual feelings and thoughts about her. Could she discover whether her parents genuinely loved her as much as she did, or why her father seemed to despise her? Could she hold them close and never let go, and know what they tasted like?

The hunger grew stronger, filling her with thoughts she couldn’t share with anyone. It wasn’t just about control–it was about understanding, about feeling what they felt, living what they lived. She grew an obsession with the idea of consuming them as a means of closing the gap between herself and the people she loved most. She desired to become a part of them, to at last understand the reality, and to have a connection unlike any other.

However, Abbey knew deep down that this need would ultimately only feed the evil that had been developing inside of her the entire time.

She sat in the corner of her bed, looking lost in space as she stared up at the ceiling, thinking, dreaming of what life would be like if she was normal. If she didn't have this continuous hunger growing inside of her like a burning flame. It had been hours since she had an argument with her father and all she could think about was the words that they spat at each other during the heat of the moment.

The silence was unbearable, only the faint ticking of the clock could be heard. She abruptly stood up, like a puppet being dragged by its strings. She cracked her door open and slowly walked down the stairs, step by step, in rhythm to the clock’s ticking. As she walked down what seemed like 1000 steps, she couldn't help but wonder how her parents slept so peacefully knowing they had a monster for a daughter.

Downstairs, the kitchen was dark, unseeing, and unsettling yet the family pictures of Abbey’s childhood made it feel familiar and comforting. Abbey opened the door of her fridge as the light from inside the fridge shined against her pale skin. She carefully scanned the content, judging each item thoroughly like people seem to judge people.

No matter how long she stood in front of her fridge, she never found anything appealing to eat. Nothing appetizing. Her stomach growled once again, feeling a familiar pang of hunger deep in her gut. A constant reminder that something was missing, to find, to consume, to make herself feel whole.

She shut the fridge door and wandered towards the living room wall, where kiddy paintings and family drawings were displayed. The stick–figure portraits of her family, drawn with crayons when she was small, hung beside more formal family photos. She barely recognized herself in those pictures–the carefree girl with bright eyes and a wide smile. A pang of nostalgia hit her as she thought of how happy she had been when she was younger, when she was still Daddy’s little girl, when everything felt normal.

Later that same night, Abbey sat in her room, the old school pictures and family photos scattered about, the soft glow of her desk lamp creating a comforting glow. She found a picture from her first day of high school as she turned the pages of her photo album. Her eyes lingered on the picture of a younger her, standing by herself in the busy courtyard, looking about with a mixture of nervousness and optimism.

She could still clearly recall how scared and happy she had been that day. The high school appeared to be a big, scary place with plenty of strange people and unknown places. Her gaze flickered across the mass of kids to a group of girls who sparkled in the distance like stars. Their enthusiasm and laughing were contagious, yet they had an enticing and enigmatic presence. Abbey thought they were almost phantom-like, alluring but out of reach.

Haunted by the idea of becoming attached to someone and then having them reject her, Abbey stayed on the fence out of fear of opening up and running the chance of rejection. Being a lone figure in the crowd made it easy to remain distant. However, destiny had other ideas. Two of those captivating girls saw Abbey one gloomy afternoon as she sat by herself on a bench, buried in her thoughts, and gazed at the grey sky. They looked at each other and walked towards her, their strides slow and their faces expressionless.

"Hi there, my name is Desiree,"

said the girl with long, dark hair and a light complexion with a hint of pink.

"This is Ivory," she said, gesturing to the taller, more muscular female with dark skin and short curled hair that framed her face. Abbey's heart raced as she looked up. Their approach had a both reassuring and unsettling quality. She managed, "Oh, um, hi," trying not to show how anxious she was. Ivory and Desiree took a seat next to her, their presence at once comforting and menacing.

"We've seen you around and thought we'd come to say hello,"

Desiree said, breaking the silence. “You looked... fascinating. Would it be okay for us to join you?”

Abbey came to adore her new friends over time. Despite Abbey's constant worries, Desiree, Ivory, and Abbey established an inseparable friendship. Constance and Dhanvi, two more girls who joined in the same coincidental way, added to their circle as the years went by. Although Abbey found comfort in their companionship, her initial concern lingered as a shadow that threatened to take over her happiness.

Abbey's memories of those years with Desiree, Ivory, and the rest of the group were bittersweet as she looked at the old pictures. The feeling of dread that had followed their first encounter now appeared to be a melancholic prologue to their impending separation.

She was overwhelmed with fear at the idea of leaving them, of entering a world where they would no longer be a regular source of comfort.

As graduation drew nearer, her inner hunger– the overwhelming want to be near the people she loved– grew even stronger. Her heart ached from the thought of losing her haven and being parted from the friends who had previously been everything to her. Abbey's deepest anxieties about the impending changes and the possibility of loneliness were reflected in her desire to join with them in a warped kind of affection.

Abbey's concerns interlaced with the complexity of her emotions as she wandered through her home, thinking of her parents. She felt even more powerless at the thought of leaving her mother with her father, who was a frequent source of turmoil. Her spiraling craziness was fuelled by the impending weight of adult responsibilities and unavoidable change. Abbey became increasingly consumed by her friends, her thoughts racing with absurd fantasies of being one with them and experiencing a kind of love that was beyond reality. She was tormented psychologically by her fear of the future and her obsession with never being apart from the people she loved.

Every day was like a countdown to some terrifying shift, her hunger turning into an unstoppable force. Her love for her family and friends had become twisted and dark, a twisted expression of her dread of change and abandonment. Abbey's world became a terrifying haze as graduation drew near. Her formerly secure home, whose shadows spoke of her fears and unfulfilled wishes, was a reflection of her inner turmoil. She was tormented by her insatiable desire, which had become an inescapable part of her, and she was always afraid of leaving behind the only source of love and solace she had ever known.

Abbey's constant spiral into insanity cast a shade of darkness over her once-bright world. Her relationships with her friends became more and more unpredictable, and her infatuation with their presence turned into a strangling desire. They were aware of her unease but failed to recognize the extent of her suffering, blaming it on the pressure of graduation. Abbey's strong, almost desperate attachment, which they found difficult to understand but wrote off as an outcome of the times, interrupted the routine of their relationship.

That tragic night, when Abbey's sanity finally broke, was the breaking point. She committed a last, dreadful act because she was so consumed by her obsession and her fear of the impending shift. She was driven by a desire that had twisted her love into something unrecognizable, and in her naive state, she tried to merge with her friends and family in a hideous, parasitic manner. Instead of being an act of violence, it was a desperate, gruesome act of communion-a last-ditch effort to break free from the overwhelming loneliness and separation anxiety.

A terrible, silent scream marked Abbey's death. The mystery surrounding her last act, a gruesome representation of the insanity that had engulfed her, tormented her friends. Her family was also left in agony. While her father struggled with guilt over the pieces of a life wrecked by fear and obsession, Abbey's mother watched helplessly as she entered a nightmare world of falsehood.

Abbey reached her breaking point when she was forced to commit a last, gruesome act by the weight of her approaching separation and her need for connection. Her once-normal need for intimacy had become twisted into a psychotic obsession that drove her to make a desperate attempt to combine with her companions in a twisted display of affection. Her tale served as a terrifying reminder of how intense love and obsession, when combined with fear, may lead to madness. The tragic consequences of her unspoken grief and desperation were reflected in the lingering shadows of her final act.