"𝐹𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢
𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑔ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡,
𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡"
❛ 𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏 (𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚)
❛ 𝒕𝒘𝒔: 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒊𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 (𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔), 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅
❛ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔: 1162
***
This day has been feeling... off. It's just have been feeling awfully off. Just wrong.
It's making me feel like I'm going to throw up a bunch a bloody butterflies with their wings torn. I feel like I'm going to stumble to the ground if I don't pay attention to my feet, cautious and on edge, like a deer in the headlights.
It's everywhere.
I haven't been able to concentrate on anything, really. I haven't been able to finish any missing assignments or works that have been screaming for me for weeks on end now.
If I've been doing something, it'd be zoning out. I'm constantly sinking into my own head, into a fuzzy, blurry darkness. There are no any exact thoughts, just the whole world running round.
I don't really know what is out of order. It's not a bad day as some would say. It's not an unlucky day either. It's just... different.
I feel like there's a storm coming, I can see it in the horizon, but I'm not able to do anything. My feet are stuck on the ground as it draws near, closer and closer.
I must be going crazy.
I snap into reality with a loud thud.
I turn my head to the big windows of the library. There's a little stain on the clear glass.
I walk closer and look down. A couple of storeys down, there's a dark lump on the asphalt. It's laying on a dark red stain.
What a dumb little birdie. What was it thinking? Flying straight into a window.
It surprised me and I can't take my eyes off of it. I can't recognise the bird; I can only say its days are over now.
As I'm walking back to my apartment building, I stop to admire the orange sunset. It paints the clear sky golden. This evening the color is unusually sharp, deeper.
It makes me impressed. The nature is its own artist and it doesn't live off any criticism or scepticism. It doesn't need humankind to preach about color theory or harmonisation.
The air is warm and the streets are calm. Maybe I could come back here with Kami later in the evening, when it's dim and even calmer.
I kick my sneakers off and shrug my coat off.
Something feels out of ordinary.
There isn't any small dog jumping up and down at my feet. Kami usually is a very enthusiastic and animated little puppy, especially when I come home. He's always waiting for me at the front door, sitting on the floor patiently, innocent boba-like eyes staring at the door knob.
Kami is nowhere to be seen now.
I hear him before I see him.
There's some muffled little barking coming from somewhere in the apartment. It's shrill, high-pitched; Kami doesn't usually bark inside.
I walk quickly around, trying to find the source of the sound.
I reach the bedroom and I find the dog. My heart stops as I see Kami and a...
