THY NAME

Once step closer and you reach the door.

I've reached that age where I want a home of my own. I want a place that is all mine, where every corner represents who I am, not just a roof over my head. I want to build a haven where I can escape the burden of the outside world and find solace in the comforting hues these eyes may witness through the reflection of the art, choices, and memories I've created. A place where breathing feels like freedom, not a choice. I want it to be surrounded by the echoes of the voices I built to embrace serenity, not voices of the past where my freedom was caged and my emotions were shut. I want to open a new door that I know time will not halt temporarily but a place where my life unfolds because I know it's mine for the rest that I'm breathing. Lastly, A home where I can buried the worst part of me in a coffin and forget the grief I have felt when my daughter died a few weeks ago.

Heavy breathe lingers. At last I am in my new home.

When I entered my new home, one thing that gotten my attention was the hidden door at the kitchen, where I found was a stairway down to the wine cellar. The moment I open the door, the dark alley of these walls greeted me. I was hesitant at first but I laugh my ass off because in a freaky horror drama and I am thirsty for a drink so I didn't second thought to go down and fill my burning throat.

I saw a wine and it's in strawberry flavor. Wow, my favorite. I guess a treat for a fresh start.

Upon navigating the way back, the dark went to its extent. My body froze as I watched my self whirl.
The root of fear grow inside me. A frowsty breeze of air damped the flesh of my skin like an unwanted touch; the sensation made me shiver that it crawled up to the back of my spine. The once-fresh scent of the earth, which I had hardly noticed, gradually shifted that its smell became fetid. 

I shut my eyes and heavy breathing began to rise.

What is happening?

“Welcome home, Karista,” a voice of a child suddenly spoke that it began to plant hope inside my existence.

“B-baby, is that you-u?” I open my eyes, not minding the fear. I was clueless for a second. The child in front of me isn't my child.

“Who are you?” I asked her, she just gave a plain smile.

“I’m glad you came back. I thought you abandoned me,” she said and crept me with curiosity. She continued, “Let’s go home.She’s waiting.”

“W-what? W-who? Who’s waiting?” She held my hand and lead me the way. I watch my surrounding shift. A minute ago, I was in the cellar of my new home and now we are walking in a graveyard in a gloomy day. My eyes journey to the gravestones, I don’t understand it was all dated a decade ago. As we walked closer and closer, familiar faces started to appear wearing a black coated suit.

“Once step closer and you will see her,” she said and that made me anxious. I held her tight and we stopped.

“Wait, I need to call someone first,” I said to distract myself from the horror of this uncanny encounter. I get my phone in my pocket, gladly, it's still here. I opened it and it crept me more when I saw the date in my wallpaper changed. No, it didn’t changed, it was an unknown date.

“Time is an illusion here, Karista. You cannot alter time here,” Our eyes met, and it speaks volume, “It's a new world down here.”

“What am I doing here then?”

“I wanted you to meet her.” She turned to a coffin. “Just a step closer and you'll see your reality.”

I started trembling when I saw a body of a woman lying dead in a coffin. I wasn’t mistaken. . .  it was her.

“Meet my Mom.”

Fear crept my body. "W-what are you talking? She's my mother! She was murdered when I was a kid!" I told her in a frail voice.

"And who killed her?" When words no longer present in my mouth, she gave me a wild smile.

"I know you know thy name who killed her, right?" My frozen body melted and I found myself a way to step back and return home.

I kept running even though the voices is after me; chasing to deemed the light of my way back home—a reality of my sane self.

One last step and I reached the door. . . at last I am home.

I close the door, securing that she won't have her time here, she should remain prisoned in there. I watched myself slowly walk back yet can't avoid my footprints to leave traces as I am contemplating what had been done.

I burried that sin in a coffin of past and the old me was known dead right now, but then. . . who I am in this recent times?

The radio suddenly glitches and it broadcast a news that it gotten my attention.

Mother charged murder after daughter found dead in home. Authorities still in search for the suspect Karista Mariano.

It's a quiet realization, one that crept up on me slowly, but now it’s undeniable.

I am thy name, I am my daughters killer.

I found a home where I can escape the grip of my past but left captive by the truth. Really, time is the ultimate truth teller.

As my knees weakened, bending for its guilt, I found my self crying in remorse. One last drop of tear and my mouth spilled a sin.

"R. I. P to the kid I used to be. She didn't recover. . .her favorite crime."