I'll Show You Your Existance

3

Will wouldn’t have been surprised if the world had actually stopped moving after that. The man froze, and Will didn’t even think he was breathing. His face was eerily blank as he stared at the whiteboard. Will nervously fidgeted with the marker as he watched the man, he was regretting his choice in telling the man, and was genuinely concerned he was about to witness a heart attack. The man stayed frozen like that for what felt like ages, but was more like five minutes according to the clock above the stove. Will cleared his throat finally, and that seemed to pull the man out of his shock. He blinked rapidly, eyes darting between Will and the whiteboard. Picking up his napkin, he dabbed his mouth clean and then picked up his dishes, taking them to the sink and rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher. Will stayed quiet this whole time, waiting for the man to speak. He didn’t though. After cleaning up after himself, the man walked down the hall to his room and shut the door. Will was stunned, and unsure of what to do. Tears stung his eyes, dripping down his face before he could stop them. Robotically he followed the man's lead, cleaning up his dishes and then making his way to his room. He laid on his bed for an unknown amount of time, he couldn’t even bring himself to pull back the sheets to lay under. He stares at the ceiling until his eyes blur, the smooth white paint the last thing he remembers.

When he opens his eyes again, it is early morning. He’s sore, his body cramped from laying in the same position for so long. The clock on his bedside table read 5:57am , and he could hear birds singing through his window, the sun just barely beginning to appear. Groaning, he forces himself to get up and start the day. He changed into a nearly identical outfit to the one yesterday, and brushed his teeth. His hair was a mess, the curls poking out in all different directions. He spends five minutes attempting to tame it before giving up, making due with getting it to stop pointing towards the ceiling. Hesitantly, he leaves his room and makes his way to the kitchen. The clock now read 6:57am , a fact that leaves him reeling. He hadn't spent that much time getting ready, had he? It is incredibly concerning, he knew the memory loss probably meant he was suffering from some kind of brain damage, and to add losing time or lack of awareness and it just made it seem worse. There is no sign of the man in their shared living space, but Will tries not to be concerned. It’s still early , he tries to reassure himself. I’m sure he’ll be up eventually . He finds cereal in the closet and milk in the fridge, both brands that looked high end and unfamiliar. He eats slowly, trying to stop himself from glancing at the man's door every thirty seconds. He dragged the meal out as much as he could, hoping the man would come out and interrupt him.

Breakfast was quiet and lonely, the man never making an appearance. After he’s done eating, Will decides to explore the house, starting with the kitchen. It was very well stocked, plenty of perishables in the pantry, but fresh fruit on the counter and nice vegetables in the fridge. There are all the typical staples, milk, bread, butter, flour, sugar, as well as things he doesn’t recognize mixed in. Many of the labels weren’t in English, and the ones that were had names he doesn’t know. He moves to the living area, surveying the spacious and warm room. There was a fireplace with a flat screen TV hung above it, a coffee table in the center of the room and a deep brown sectional across from it, with a hamper full of cozy folded blankets next to that. Though the room was bare, it was clean and free of dust, but it didn’t appear to have been lived in anytime recently. There wasn’t much to see, and the man still has yet to make an entrance, so Will trudges back down the hallway. This time he stops in front of the man's door, and gets as far as raising his fist to knock before he loses his nerve and dejectedly lowers his hand. He remembers the room with the unopened door, and decides now is as good a time as any to look in it. The man had spoken of it as if it was significant to him, and would be to Will as well. Maybe I’ll remember something Will hopes. And with that thought, he slowly turns the knob and enters the room. The room clearly belonged to someone, most likely a young girl, and Will remembers what the man had said yesterday. That the room belongs to her. It was painted a light purple, so light it was almost white. There was a bed with a white bed frame, flowers carved into the headboard. The comforter was the same light purple, with dark green accents that remind Will of the forest. A large but tasteful vanity was pressed up against one of the walls, empty but ready for use.