We Share Intestines

On the 23rd of September 2025, I died.

It was sudden and painful, but brief. 

For some reason my just heart gave out. It ticked away for years without issue, just for the gears to break when it decided my time was up.

Dying young is often seen as unfair, but I always thought dying at all was unjust. When I realised what was happening to me and that this was the end, I was hit with an unimaginable dread. It was like my heart was trying to kill me all over again.

Yet, there was one small comfort.

When I looked up, I was in the arms of the man I had loved dearly for all those years. They seemed brief, but with him I made memories that could last an eternity.

As I stared into Alex’s eyes, desperate and confused, I felt guilty for leaving him behind. I could see him scramble for his phone to call for help and felt his tears on my cheek. 

That was the last thing I remember feeling, the wet liquid sliding down my face. When I closed my eyes, I held onto the image and stored it with those other memories. 

If there was something on the other side, I prayed I could keep them with me. 

If not, being in his arms brought me enough comfort. 

I just hoped one day, he’d open his eyes and find himself in my lap. Then we could spend whatever kind of existence awaited us together. 

I was surprised when I woke up beside him instead.

I can’t recall what state I was in before, but I was content. So, when I found myself alive and in my room it felt akin to being dragged out of bed on a cold winter morning. 

My eyes immediately met Alex’s.

The only word I could manage to mutter was his name.

We were laying in our bed, as we had done so often before. His eyes were watery again, but a smile of relief accompanied them. Pulling me into his arms, he cried on my shoulder. 

He said something, but I was so dazed I couldn’t make it out. 

I rubbed my forehead as he let go to take me in. 

“It worked… it worked, I can’t believe it…” 

That’s what he had been whispering between soft sobs and gentle laughs. 
While he inspected me, I started to make note of him.

He was pale, deathly gaunt and had bags under his eyes. He didn’t seem much older than when I last saw him, yet there were grey streaks in his curly brown hair. There was something about him that was off, like my brain just couldn’t register it was really him. 

I was confused. Had he died and joined me too? 

My thoughts felt disjointed but the fog was beginning to disperse. To try and wake myself up, I attempted to sit up.

When I did, a force pulled me down.

It was strange, it wasn’t like some tugged against me. Instead, it was more like…there was an unfamiliar weight holding me down.

“I couldn’t repair all of you…” Alex’s voice was meek, but caught my attention. 

His eyes were locked on me, eager for a reaction that I wasn’t sure I could deliver.  

My eyes drifted down to look at myself. 

I shrunk back in fear at what I saw.

Below, my naked body was a scrambled mess, barely even my own anymore. Patches of skin that didn’t match my tone were blotched across me and my whole body was sloppily sewn together. The needle and thread still laid by our side, the bedsheets stained red with my blood.

Or… our blood.

Attached by the hip were our abdomens. Our skin was stitched together as one, connecting us from the upper thigh to just below my bosom.  

I felt the urge to throw up my guts, but my stomach was already empty so I could only dry heave. 

Realising I wanted to sit up, Alex helped me raise as he patted my back. 

“I know, I know it’s a lot.” 

“What the fuck, Alex?! What the hell have you done?!” 

He seemed disappointed at my reaction. I guess he was hoping for a happy reunion after however long he had waited.

Whatever emotions he felt, he set them aside and took a deep breath in. 

“I did what I could. I could replace everything but your intestines. So, I compromised.” 

The more it hit me this wasn’t some horrible nightmare, the harder my head pounded. I struggled to breathe, spluttering out whatever my brain could manage.

“Compromised…? Compromised… what the fuck do you mean, compromised?” 

He took my hand and put it on his stomach.

“We can share now.” 

The look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t uncanny, or manic, instead it was one I had seen so many times before.

Love.

He was unrecognisable. I refused to accept whoever I was looking at was my Alex. 

It was someone else, mimicking his mannerisms. It had to be, they were good but this just couldn’t be him.

How could he do this? He wouldn’t… I must still be dying or something, I must be…

I felt his arms wrap around me again. I recoiled in fear, but that didn’t deter him.

I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t. No matter where I went, he’d be there with me. I covered my mouth and tried to hold in my whimpering. With a careful hand, he wiped away my tears. 

“Alex, why? Just why? I was happy… I-I think… I didn’t… what would make you think I’d want… how did you even…?” 

He hushed me a little and held me tighter. 

“Now we can be together forever, just like we always wanted.” 

As he whispered those words into my ear, I could see something glitter on my hands. 

It was the engagement ring he’d presented me not long before. At least, not long before in my mind. But now, it was on a finger that didn’t belong to me.

I tried to remove it, but it was so thick and swollen the ring stuck in place. 
So, I just sat there. Unable to do anything else.

When we first started dating, I remember enjoying how flustered Alex would get. 

One memory always sticks out to me.

It was our second or third date. He was in the kitchen of his shitty apartment while I sat at a crappy wooden table with one leg that was too short. While I wobbled the table up and down to calm my own nerves, Alex ran around the kitchen as all hell broke loose.

He was attempting a romantic dinner by candlelight and had even presented me some roses before entering. After putting them in a vase he’d prepared, he got to work on steak just for it to set ablaze in the pan.

After we put the fire out, he insisted he was usually a decent chef. I told him I’d take his word for it, but to avoid any more deadly scenarios we should just order pizza. 

What stood out to me was his recovery. Even though he was still an anxious mess, even more so after dinner had gone so horribly wrong, he continued on with the same amount of effort.

He grabbed some extra scented candles, put a video of a fake fire on the tv and set up a comfy area by his couch with various pillows. 

He was trying his best, and even the failures were cute. Maybe that’s why I said yes to another date.

Perhaps, it was now being stuck beside him that soured that memory.

That awkward energy didn’t move me anymore. I could tell he felt guilty and was trying to make up for his failed surprise, but now when the eggs in the pan began to burn I was there to stop it from happening.

Only because there was nothing else I could do. 

From now on, I’d have to do what he wanted.

He prepared a spot in our living room. It would be too much of a hassle now to collect candles, so instead he opened the curtains so we could stare out into the city.

The view used to make me happy. Now it was hard to feel anything.

He tried to make conversation and catch me up on everything I had missed. 

I didn’t say much in return. 

I was just relieved to be sitting down. My feet were aching from standing for so long. Alex was always quite a bit taller than me, so to be able to stand beside him, I had to stay on my tiptoes.

I could see his mind scrambling for ideas to try to lighten the mood. I used to enjoy watching his eyes wander to the ceiling as if there’d be answers up there. 

Now, I could only see the red veins in his eyes and wonder if he always looked so tired.

Eating was different.

It would go down as normal and sit in my stomach like it did when I was alive. But after that, there would be moments where I’d suddenly feel lighter just for the weight to return as the food slithered down our digestive track. 

It was nauseating. It was even worse when he ate without me realising, every time I felt it in my gut I wanted to cough it up.

I surveyed our surroundings, scanning the rooms while choking down our breakfast.

“Where is Ozzie?” 

I mumbled it, unsure if I wanted the thought to remain inside my head or not.

Alex kept his head down low, keeping his eyes on his scrambled eggs.

“Ozzie passed away.” 

“When?”

“Not long ago.”

Ozzie was our black ragdoll cat. He had always been an indoor pet, deathly terrified of the outside world. When I last saw him before I passed, he was as healthy and happy as ever. That very morning I remember petting him while eating lunch. 

I didn’t understand how a young healthy cat could just die. 

“How long was I gone for?” 

Alex hesitated, but this time raised his head.

“A year.” 

Ozzie only had a year left in him? A measly year? 

I didn’t dare ask any further questions. The reason I had searched for him in the first place was because there was a foul odor coming from the bin in the kitchen. 

Based upon Alex’s recent hobbies, I didn’t want to discover its source.

It being Ozzie wasn’t even the worst case scenario.

I traced my skin with my hands, trying to become familiar with the new flesh. I would’ve assumed parts of me had just begun to rot if the tones and textures weren’t so different to my own. 

I feared what he did to get me these strange patches of skin. I wondered what new organs I had borrowed as well.
While feeling the bumps and curves, a sensation hit me that filled me with nostalgia. 

One square in my side felt familiar. It was as if I had rubbed it millions of times before, but it definitely wasn’t my own.

Noticing my observations, Alex began to unravel the blanket he’d wrapped around our shoulders. 

“I tried to get you the best, but my resources were limited.” 

He did his best to turn to show me his lower back. There was a chunk of skin that had been removed, leaving an indent. 

I wasn’t sure what to say. 

Sheepishly, he pulled the blanket back up.

“I hope you don’t mind.” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“You hope I don’t mind…” 

A long silence followed.

Alex took my hand in his and began rubbing my palm with his thumb. The gesture would’ve relaxed me in the past, but now it made me uneasy.

What had he done with those hands? 

After a moment, he helped me to our feet. 

“I’ve been doing work remotely, I have some stuff to catch up on…” 

I just nodded. 

It took a moment to coordinate our walking paces, but with each step we improved. He tried to lighten the mood with the odd joke but I couldn’t even manage a forced smile. 
When we made it to his office, I stopped. 

Since I had awoken, I had just done whatever he said. The only desire I had was to close my eyes and pretend it was all a dream. So, when a new desire crept in, one someone who was alive would feel, I felt I had to grab onto the opportunity.

Alex waited for me to explain why I had halted our progress. 

“I want to paint.” 

He looked a little surprised, then a little awkward.

“We could bring your stuff into my office…”

“I like to paint by the window.”

“I know but… I have work.” 

I was too tired to argue. 

We gathered my acrylics and easel. Alex tried to convince me to finish a painting I had started before I died, but I told him to just throw it out. 

I could tell he was hurt by how dismissive I was, but I didn’t care. 

Painting was something I did for me. A way to de-stress and try to appreciate my surroundings. 

It was hard to do either with Alex stuck to me.

I had to stay by his desk so he could reach his PC. In the past, I’d always stand but now I was forced to sit so we could reach his keyboard. 

I tried my best to make do. Once the paint hit the canvas I’d be able to get my thoughts in order. 

They were all drowned out by Alex’s clicking and clacking. Every key on the keyboard was sticky and loud. Every so often he had to make a phone call as well to try to update clients.

Ignore it, pretend he’s not there, ignore it.

But every time he moved I’d be dragged with him. He’d always apologise, saying he did it without thinking. He’d just need to reach for something and that’s all it would take for me to miss the canvas.

I couldn’t even decide what to paint.

I broke down when the only line I managed to get down was one caused by another sudden jolt.

I hid my face in my hands, wishing I could just disappear.

Alex dropped everything he was doing and did his best to hold me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything. Everything is wrong.”

He saw my blue streak and sighed.

“We’ll get used to it. It’ll take some time.”
I slapped his hands away.

“I don’t want to get used to it!” I wiped my snot on my sleeve and tried to hold back my tears as I continued, “I don’t just want to be part of you, I want to be me!” 

Alex shrunk a little, fidgeting with his hands. 

“I was just trying to help. I… I did this for us-”

“You did this for you.” 

His mouth opened to protest, but he must’ve realised he had no retorts. 

“I’m sorry. It was hard without you. There really is no me without you.” 

It was something we had always said to each other to make us smile, but I had never considered he’d take the sentiment to heart.

I put a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s not true. You managed without me before we met. A-and you had your work, you love coding! A-and your family, like your little sister and Ozzie and…”

As the words left my mouth, my mind heard them. I could feel my hands shake as the tears returned.

“O-our families… shit, I am never going to see my parents again… your parents, any of them… am I?” 

Alex tried to hug me but I just shook my head. Trying to ignore the rejection, he put a hand on my back and rubbed it.

“We can’t.” 

Despair began to boil into rage as I felt my face flush red.

“Why?! Why would you do this to me?! Why would you think I wanted this?!” 

“I just wanted a second chance.”

“And what did you do to get it?! Dear God, Alex, what… what did you do to get it?” 

“What was necessary.” 

His tone was cold and apathetic. I’d never heard him speak like that. I avoided meeting his gaze, scared at what expression he could be making. 

I tried to take a breath, but it didn’t help.

“I don’t want this. Please, just… let me go.”

“No.” 

His firm voice caught me off guard, but I tried to keep my resolve without looking at him.

“If you don’t fix this, I will.” 

“Then you will be a murderer.” 

Confused, I couldn’t help but look him in the eye now. 

I expected him to look angry, or icy or even manic. But he just looked tired. 

“If you die, I’ll die too. You’ll be killing us both.” 

It was stated matter of factly, yet felt like a threat. 

I suspected that wasn’t a design flaw, but I kept that thought to myself. 

My feet kept telling me to run like they hadn’t understood my circumstances. No matter where I tried to go, he’d be right there. Even if I tried to move I’m sure he’d keep me in place.

This was just my life now.

So, I just went back to my blank canvas, trying to decide what to paint.

We continued like that, never getting used to each other. 

We’d trip over each other, struggle to complete tasks and often get in each other’s way. We couldn’t go outside and the curtains remained drawn. Food would be delivered to our door where we’d have to do our best to position ourselves to look like we were one person or standing side by side.

Alex made us custom clothes and handled everything he could, but I’d always have to help him due to proximity. 

I missed Ozzie. I missed my parents.

Even if Alex couldn’t see his family, he could still call them. I couldn’t get that luxury.

Sometimes Alex would call them for me and pretend to be checking in. I always struggled to not cry while listening in.

I’d refuse to eat. I hated how it felt, though other days I just didn’t want to acknowledge I was alive. Alex would always be there to feed me himself.

With every day that passed my resentment grew. It wasn’t due to our circumstances.
It was watching every memory I had be soiled.

Alex would fuss over me, try to make me smile and distract me. On the odd occasion, out of habit it would work. 
But all his traits I once loved became draining. 

I didn’t want to think they were the same person. The Alex I knew would never torment me like this.

Or maybe he would. Maybe I never knew him at all, and that’s what scares me more.

Waking up hurt. 

I’d often forget my new reality, and be convinced it was some distant nightmare. I’d see Alex by my side and go to make us coffee like I did every morning, just to find myself stuck in the bed. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I could tell Alex was struggling as well. 
I don’t know what he had envisioned, but I doubt it was this. At night I’d hear him crying to himself, but he’d always put on a brave face when I asked what was wrong.

His efforts continued but I could tell he didn’t believe his false promises anymore.
Nothing would change, this was it. This was how we were going to be.

He’d always make sure I ate, but I couldn’t help but notice he’d never take a bite himself.

I felt guilty leaving him behind. 

All this time he must’ve imagined seeing me again. Who knows how many times he replayed the idea of me opening my eyes and falling into his arms. 

It was easy for me to dismiss his feelings, I wasn’t here. 

But whatever this was couldn’t go on.

One night, I found myself wide awake. In my hands was a pillow that vibrated with my hands.

He had made sure there was no way I could do the deed to myself. Any object that could aid my attempts had been thrown out long ago. That left me with little options.

Why must you take all my choices away?

I could make his face out in the dark. Exhaustion made sure he fell asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. 

I had been watching him for hours, making sure he’d stay that way. 

He was always so pretty when he slept. 

I shook the thought away and tightened my grip on my pillow.

He left me no choice. This is his fault. He left me no choice. He left me no choice.
I took a big breath and covered his face. I held the pillow down, leaning across him as best I could to keep it down.

It took him a while to notice. For thirty seconds, he continued to sleep. 

Then the struggle began.

He reached out in the air, trying to find something to grab. They reached for the pillow, trying to pry it off his face. I pressed down harder, holding my breath without realising as I tried to fight back tears.

His hands felt around as muffled sounds came from under me. 

It was hard to make out, but I knew it was my name he was calling.

I couldn’t hold back anymore and began sobbing. 

Still scrambling to escape, he reached for my wrists and dug his nails into my skin.

Then he stopped.

He was heavier than me. He was stronger than me. And due to our predicament, if he figured out to turn his body in the right way, I’d be pulled with him.

But he didn’t fight. 

Only the sounds continued, as he let his hands flop by his side.

I wondered if it was when he touched me or when I began crying he realised it was me.

Soon the sounds stopped too.

Just like that, it was over.

He was gone. 

I debated finding a scalpel and prying myself from him. Even if I failed, I could untangle our intestines so I might have a chance to be free.

But what was the point?

I was just a dead girl. Nothing had changed.

I did manage to remove the ring though.

I haven’t moved from that spot. Even now I lay in bed, waiting for me to wither away.
Alex has been cold for a while. I don’t know why, but I started to hold his hand a while back. I can’t bring myself to let go.

The maggots have started to appear but I don’t care. I just hope they’ll come for me soon too.

Holding his hand now, I decided this isn’t what I’d choose to remember. The good times were still good times. Really, I don’t think I knew this Alex at all.

Those are the empty words I repeat to myself anyway. 

I always thought love was a powerful thing, but maybe it’s just stupid.

Or it really is that strong, and that’s why death is needed to defeat it.

Yet, I still hope when I close my eyes for good, I’ll open them to see his face. 

Credit: RandomGinger

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