Escapism | Random Oneshots

2

"Apart"

I used to live here. That's all I could say. Now someone else's living here. You might wonder, what happened? Did you moved away? You were kicked out on your own apartment? The truth was, I was dead.

Five years ago, everything was peaceful. Nothing to worry about and I wasn't on the verge of perilousness until the unexpected thing happened.

I did not commit suicide. I was never suicidal. In fact, I was more like happier than I thought I would imagine. I died because of an incident.

My brother, he was the one who pull off the slaughterings. But I knew him too well that he would never do that. That person who murdered me isn't him anymore. He's been dead for a long time.

My sibling was the one who have been depressed. Since the death of his girlfriend, he can't move on. He wanted to be happy again but he thought he can't imagine it anymore.

He was desperate; he was on the edge of despair. He wanted to ease the anguish so bad he did the worse thing I couldn't possibly imagine. I witnessed everything with my two eyes.

He decided to take drugs. He thought it would make him happy again. In the beginning, he seemed to be overjoy by the pang of glee he was experienced. He thought he can do anything. He even thought he can bring his girlfriend back to life as if it was the story of Orpheus and Eurydice or Romeo and Juliet.

I stayed away from him hoping he'd be better but everything was even worse.

The unbearable nightmare came. He seemed to lose control. He wasn't being himself anymore. He became the Big Bad Wolf ready to huff and puff and kill everyone around him.

He sees hallucination. He was confused with reality. Describing what exactly happened was still hurting me but all I could manage to tell was the time I ceased to exist.

He thought I wasn't his sister. He insisted I was a demon laughing, humiliating and convincing him to kill the demon which was me. He never came back to his true senses. It cannot be reversed.

He grabbed the coldest and the bluntest knife he could find.

He stormed into my apartment. He faced me and screamed, "What are you doing in my sister's apartment?! Stay away from her!"

Everything went gloomy, dark, scary all at once. My brother was scrawny, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were bloodshot.

He went towards my direction. At first I had no idea what to do but I spoke, "It's me, Anais. I'm your sister! W-Why are you being like this?"

"LIES!" He yelled back, unconvinced.

"Please, listen! You are not being yourself anymore! Please, stop--"

"NO!" Then he aimed his weapon onto my heart. He stabbed several times that felt like millions. I felt the freezing cold in his knife. The last memory I had before I passed out was everything was bloody. I was laying on hardwood floor. He opened my place's window and came for a jump.

I had no idea if he died or if he didn't.

Years passed but the wound was still fresh. I wasn't the type of person who would avenge. Instead I stayed in this apartment that used to be mine.

I didn't haunt anyone despite that I was there witnessing all the memoirs that all who lived there after myself they're making. They were happy. I wished it was the same thing that happened to me.

The last one who lived here decided to move away. It was empty again. For few months, it felt like this place was all to myself again. It was like the golden days where I was genuinely smiling, sipping my ordered espresso from Starbucks and watching cat videos or vine compilations on YouTube.