Living

Prologue

Empty. So were my eyes when I looked at the family portrait hanging on the wall. So was the house where I grew up and spent all my childhood falls that I was now trying to sell. The portrait was the only thing left in this house. This house. A house with happy memories. These memories were only minority. Why ? Because that's where my whole family died. I can still hear her screams. My sister's screams filled the empty house's rooms up. I can still hear his breaths. The breaths of my father that were his lasts. My sister, my brother, my father and my mother all had their last breaths in this room. The living room. That's were my worst nightmare happened. The scene I keep replaying in my head and that I wish I could erase. All this blood, all this suffering and all these screams. Screams so loud I didn't even know were possible. The screams that got me 6 years in a psychiatric institution and a lifetime psychotherapist. I don't even want to think about it. I turn around, giving a last glance to this room I never wanna come back in. I approach the front door to leave but I remember this necklace my mother had. She cherished it so much that she never took it off. I've always wanted this necklace when I was a kid. There was just a thing to it that was hypnotic. Maybe it was the curves of gold covering a little blue stone or maybe it was the stone itself that shined at the most minimal ray of sunshine. I turned around and went toward the stairs that led to my parent's room. While I entered a smell filled my nose that I haven't smelled in years. It was a mix of my mother's vanilla perfume and my father's shaving cream. Their room hadn't changed since that day. Everything was still in place. As if my family was still alive and waiting for me in the kitchen. As if my mother just woke up and was making us her delicious pancakes I loved so much. But no. They're dead, I reminded me. I sat down on the bed and looked around every detail that could bring up a happy memory I had. Gosh, I just wish they could be here. Then I saw it. It was still on my mother's dressing table. The necklace still shined even under all this dust. I got up and took it, blowed all the dust off, laid back on the bed and watched it shine in my hands like it was the only thing in this room. This necklace really had something i couldn't describe. I began to cry. Crying in the bed of my parents like a little child. The harder I cried the harder the smell invaded nose. My eyes became heavier. My sobs calmed down and I peacefully fell asleep. It was as if my parents were hugging me to sleep. I woke up the next morning. Morning is not really the right word due to the fact that it was almost 3PM. It was the first time I slept this good in my life. Maybe those sleeping pills finally worked. While I opened my eyes I realised I was still in this house I swore I would never put a foot into again. I froze. Not for the fact that I still was in this house. But for what I saw in this mirror of my mother's hairdresser in front of the bed. My mother. My dead mother sitting next to me. She was staring at me. She was so close I could feel her breaths against my cheek. I sat there, paralysed by this scene, not really knowing what to do. I turned around and saw nothing. My mom wasn't there. "Of course she wasn't, she's fucking dead" I reminded myself. But why could I still feel her breaths against me? Why was her reflection still turned in my direction, looking at me with eyes wide open and a big smile. I checked again to see if she really wasn't here but nobody was there. The breaths stopped and the reflection in the glass was gone. I thought my pills worked this time. It wasn't the first time I hallucinated, it happened a lot when I was younger. That's why they placed me in a psychiatric institution. I looked down and rubbed my eyes with exhaustion. Why does this keep happening? What in the earth did I do to deserve all of that ? I looked up at the mirror again and what I saw paralysed me. My mom was looking at my reflection in the mirror. That was not my mom. The thing in the mirror had his eyes wide open, and a crooked smile that almost reached his eyes. But why did it look like my mom? I could hear the woman in the mirror whispering something, something so low I couldn't hear it. I approached my ear to hear better. The reflection came closer to my ear and whispered in my ear. "We miss you." That was my mom's voice. I could recognise it through thousands. The reflection was gone along with the noises. Maybe they're still in this house. Maybe they feel alone without me. Maybe I should join them, I'll finally be reunited with the ones I loved. The only ones I will ever love. There's nothing holding me back. I don't have anyone waiting for me when I come back from work every day. The job I have is literal slavery and I don't have enough salary to pay my bills on time. I'll be expelled from my studio in a month if I don't pay now. Dying would just be an escape. I'm gonna do it. There's nothing holding me back. I stood up, went to the basement to take a rope strong enough and a ladder. I fixed the rope to the chandelier and made sure it was able to hold me. I made a knot to fit my head in and everything was finally ready. I took the necklace of my mom and put it on for the first time in my life. I placed myself and saw my whole family. All were eyes wide open with this big smile, hand in hand. "Come, we miss you Persy." I put a step forward and began to feel the pain of the rope getting into my skin. My vison became troubled but I could hear my family's laughter. It was an evil laughter I couldn't recognise, but it wasn't my family's. Whose was it and what was that in front of me? Shit. What did I do ?

Hi everyone,I'm so excited to share my very first story on Wattpad with you all! Writing has always been a passion of mine, and I finally decided to take the plunge and post my work here. I'm a beginner, so I'm still learning and growing, but I hope you enjoy what I've created so far.I'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave comments or suggestions. Your feedback would mean a lot to me as I continue this journey. Thank you so much for giving my story a chance!Happy reading,Emma ❤️