Secret safe room

In the darkness of the house

Sometimes, I heard them. Slowly, breathing in this house, like children who dreamed peacefully.

But it didn't stay like that any longer. Their hearts, corrupted by their own pasts were seemed to burst inside their skin. I see them, breathing hardly in this house, like children who died belligerently.

At least it was funny. Saw them, fighting the past and what they did. Felt just when we looked at them how it was terrible. I couldn't stop smiling when I hid since I didn't want them to know I was here, looking at them.

Then, suddenly some of them woke up in their beds, breathing faster and faster. Another nightmare. Again and again, every night. Well, you can say it was a ritual, something no one could stop. Their regrets, their pasts, theirs acts, theirs hates, everything. I couldn't comfort them, you know. It wasn't my job.

Just after they woke up, some of them arrived in the lounge, drunk something in order to calm down. That never help yet, it was a part of the ritual. Some of them stayed in their own rooms, some of them had to talk to an imaginary friend who understood better than themselves. Again, it was a part of the ritual.

When everyone went finally to sleep just for a while, a man in a black suit arrived. I went out of the shadow and I walked into the weak light of the corridor.

My job had to be quick. I was still in training, like those brats said. But I wanted to sleep too, just a little. So, even if I was a very bad puppet for them I try to be fast as I could. Ironic, if it was from me.