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by 4cofeen

by 4cofeen

I love this apartment, really, ever since I laid my eyes on it. I just fell in love. I just know it's mine, like how I walk in this town, it's like there's an invisible string that I'm tied up to, it guided me and connects me to my home. I belong here, this place.

The streets, there's plenty of them, some of them look a bit alike but trust me the first time I stepped there, i just knew I needed to put my feet here to get to my home. It's mine, there's just something that tells me it is.

I guess it's the fact that, I don't think I have to say it, it's not even possible. I Just want you to know that I love this place, everything; these little taints on the wall, the scrapes, it's a part of this. It's where I put my feet in the tub and it collides with warm water. It's where i drink the first sip of coffee in the morning and how the aroma of it hugs and kisses the room.

It's just mine, so why? Why do these shadows of memories want to have a share of what's supposedly mine only? It supposedly my memories alone, not with these, I don't know what do you even call these.

I told you, i-it's hard to explain. It's just that my home calls me by my name, and calls me a different one sometimes. This happens when I'm in the middle of being conscious and subconscious. Like the first seconds when you wake up, or going home drunk in life; tired and restless, that's when I see it; those shadows in a faded light, waiting and welcoming me home. It's like I'm someone they have been waiting for.

Those memories there, it's different. I see my mom, my family rather, but in a different, i don't know world? Era? They're just dressed in a very old style. That's how I can say it. They never talk, or do something they just watched.

It's like watching a movie in a projector, an image by a light that you can't touch. They're just there, like asking to be seen, and disappear after your conscious mind knock to your senses. Some kind of f*ckery isn't it?

"Sir, Are you still there?" The person in the other line asked.

"I don't know, am I?" I absentmindedly replied.

"Sir whatever you were thinking—"

"Hey, remember when i told you they never did something? I'm rethinking it now. It's true they never tried to harm or get near me. They just, you know, do their own thing. Like a movie, yes that's the representation. But, even if they didn't, it's just- it's like they're trying to affect you indirectly. They made me watch my life! Myself in different era whatsoever. I have family there; i still have my mom there, and my Dad. They're alive. Heaven knows how much i want them to be alive." I sighed, trying hard not to cry myself out.

"Sir—"

"I met this woman. We fell in love, we have kids. I'm happy, I was. I was loved and I loved. We're here, right in this house! I've watched it, I've watched my life pass in my own fucking eyes.

I got home that time, and there i see the unfinished food that my "wife" tried to cook, i walk there, i kind of scared there i guess, like something's off. Well something's really off. I carefully watch my steps and when I open our room. There! I see them murdered, dead, and swimming in their own pool of blood!

Now tell me, what did i do, Mister? Why does my life always have to end up like this? Even my life before sucks! Fuck it.

My wife, she's dead. My kids they we're, oh God my kids," I said trembling.

"Sir, i heard you, now what i want you to do is to calm yourself down, the help is going there for you"

"No, it has to end. I need to change this, i have to. Maybe, in my next life it'll be better. I'll- I'll make it better this time. I'll leave you the keys, make sure i still got my home when i get back."

"Sir? Sir please don't do anything—hello? Are you still there? Sir??"