NO REASON

Chapter 11: Ride back home

Walking down the street, my mind was in confusion. I needed to confirm something to ground myself in reality. I ran toward the alleyway opposite the café. Unlike the emptiness of the previous night, the alley was now bright with people walking next to it

I headed straight to the spot where I remembered finding the crack in the wall. My heart pounded as I approached, half-expecting to see the jagged opening that was in my memory. But when I reached the wall, there was nothing. No crack, no dent-just a smooth, unblemished surface.

My legs gave way, and I collapsed to my knees, staring in disbelief at the smooth wall. How could this be? Had I truly lost my mind? The memory of the crack had been so vivid, so real. But now, standing here in the daylight, it felt like a cruel figment of my imagination.

Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes as I tried to fit the torn images I had  in my mind. Last night had been a blur, and now, faced with this impossible reality, I felt like I was slipping further into madness. How could something so tangible simply vanish? Had my mind played tricks on me, or was I simply too drunk

What was real? What was imagined? And how could I trust myself when reality seemed to shift under my feet?
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand.

As I walked back to my apartment, I remembered the news broadcast urging anyone with information to come forward. I hesitated, contemplating whether I should go to the police. But my story had too many holes, too many uncertainties. I had no evidence-no photos, no physical proof-nothing but fragmented memories and a nagging sense of hate

Going to the police now, with nothing concrete to show, would make me sound like a raving lunatic. They'd probably dismiss my claims as the product of an overactive imagination or worse, label me as a suspect since I lived in the neighborhood.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something crucial. Maybe the answers lay somewhere deeper in my mind. I needed clarity, a way to piece together the disjointed images in my head.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, I focused on my immediate task: preparing for my supposed trip. I needed to make my alibi as believable as possible. I mentally ran through the checklist: pack my luggage, clean the apartment, and make travel arrangements that I could show if questioned.

I started with my luggage, packing enough clothes and essentials to make it look convincing. I moved around my apartment, tidying up and putting things in order, I let my mind wander to my family. I hadn't seen my brother and sister in years, and the thought of reconnecting with them brought warmth to my otherwise troubled heart. This unexpected visit might actually do some good, offering a brief escape from the chaos surrounding me.

As I packed, I considered the implications of my actions. If Abel truly knew more than he let on, distancing myself from him-even temporarily-could give me the breathing room I needed to think clearly and figure out my next steps. It might also keep me safe, at least for a little while.

I took one last look around my apartment, ensuring everything was in its place. With my bag packed and my apartment spotless, I felt a small measure of control returning. It was a fragile illusion, but one I desperately needed.

I grabbed my phone and booked a bus ticket for that evening. If anyone checked, they would see that I was indeed planning to visit my family. With everything set, I took a deep breath, and waited for the evening to arrive
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It was finally evening when I hurried to the bus stop, dragging my luggage behind me. Without giving the bus driver a second glance, I shoved my ticket in his hand and settled into a window seat.

The bus ride was a ten-hour drive from the city to my hometown. I knew it was going to be a long and boring journey, so I tried listening to podcasts and music, but nothing seemed to put my mind at ease. It didn't help that the woman next to me kept glancing at me as if she knew something. Eventually, I decided the best way to pass the time was to fall asleep.

When the bus stopped for a short rest, I stayed put. Leaving the bus would mean spending money on snacks and other things I couldn't afford. Every penny I had was reserved for my sister's hospital bills and my brother's school fees and textbooks. There was nothing extra.
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Time flew by as I slept, and before I knew it, we arrived in my hometown at dawn. Stepping off the bus, I took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air of the countryside. It was a stark contrast to the polluted, bustling city I had left behind. Here, the sky was a clear, brilliant blue, and the first rays of sunlight bathed the streets in a gold

The small town was nestled among rolling green hills, dotted with charming houses and  gardens. Birds chirped cheerfully, and the scent of wildflowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the countryside. It was a beautiful scene straight out of a storybook, a world away from the concrete jungle I had lived in.

As I stood by the bus stop, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I was home. Yet, a feeling of unease lingered at the back of my mind. Something felt off, a subtle tension in the air that I couldn't quite place. Little did I know, this homecoming was just the calm before the storm. The quiet of my hometown was about to be shattered, and my life would soon be thrown into chaos once again.