1 At the 31 Seath Street, Ardum District

13th October

Darkness. My sight can't catch even a glimpse or ray of light. I can't see where I am. I don't know what's under my shoe sole, but every time I moved them, a breaking sound surrounds me. Like dry twigs of trees when stumped. No sound aside from me doing it with the things under me. A chilling wind enveloped and seconded by a faint growling. What was that?

I heard another growling, but this time much louder than the first. Even I turned in that direction; nothing will shock me. But unfortunately, this time, it has. Two silhouettes were fast approaching as their paces stumped heavily.

They're nearby. I wanted to run, but I'm stoned. Even my limbs, my mouth I can't even open. Shock and fear were running through my veins. I planned to close my eyes and repeatedly told myself that these are all not real. I'm just hallucinating and imaginative about my own life.

Maybe faith answered my plea. Those heavy footsteps and sighs vanished. The surrounding became silent. The brutal and fast beating of my heart was the one I'm hearing. I waited for about a minute before opening my eyes as they're still the ones I can move at the moment.

But I regret opening them when the bloody faces of my late mother and father welcomed my sight—sensing their pleading eyes piercing straight through me. I screamed and tried to move my whole body. This circumstance is a nightmare, and I want to escape.

I don't want this.

***

I felt my limbs full of sweat, my stomach growling with hunger, and tears escaped from my eyes. I thought about it again. The feeling of fear, controlled, alone.

I waited for a minute before opening my sight, and my black ceiling welcomed my eye with one LED lamp attached. At my right side, the glass window with cream white curtains, a mahogany table, and opened pages of books scattered above. The sun is already up.

On my left side is a wooden door with several locks and codes on it for safety purposes. My misarrange shoe rack and closet are an eyesore.

Heaving a long sigh was like stopping my breath for a month. Another nightmare. An exaggerated imagination that I tailored while sleeping may be caused by too many books I've read. I must return them and reported the author. The stories were psychotic and nerve-wracking.

But it was not the first time. These nightmares started a week ago, and I'll wake up every day panting, sweating, or shouting names. Names that I couldn't recognize. These were not ordinary ones, I concluded. Seeking professionals should be done. What if I'm being depressed? Or there's someone who wants to saw me miserable?

Standing for me at the moment was like being paralyzed for half a year. I saw myself again, both arms on my side-lying on the warm bed. The effects of those nightmares made my knees trembled every morning.

I cleaned my thoughts and, again, stand like it's my first time. And I'm triumphant. A nightmare can't stop me on my track unless legal terms are the ones I'm facing.

"Clean the mess, Romu" I uttered to myself while on my way to the comfort room. I'm not an organized person, frankly speaking. Talking to myself about these everyday things was just a reminder that I can't usually remember and do.

Seeing my façade in the mirror created a simultaneous flashback of strange events. I can't name a few, and I can't distinguish if they're mine or someone else's. They gave me chills, fear, nervousness, anxiety, psychotic intent, and sadness.

These blue orbs and pointed nose that people who know my family would indeed say resembled my father since when I was a kid. Curly, black, messy hair and small pinkish lips whom I got from my mother. And somehow, I'm kind of disappointed. These features have reminded me of my horrible past. It's not that I longed for them. How can I surely long for their presence if leaving me behind was as easy as dumping trash, leaving nothing exciting about my past?

"Tell yourself, you're a coward." A faint voice passed by my ear. I silenced for a moment and waited for it to be heard again. But none. Maybe I'm just hallucinating. Again. Now, awake.

I did my morning routine and prepared myself; I don't waste my time looking into the mirror to see my reflection. Still, I'm me. Picking my usual tee, pants, and shoes, I'm off to go as it's Saturday. Nothing will change on those clothes hanging around my little physic.

Leaving my room took some time as my door had so many locks. As an individual who was being prudent with his safety, these locks helped a lot. I don't know when did I started having these, but they are not a problem.

Before stepping my foot out of the apartment, I took a last glance remembering every part of it as I'm not returning home. I was doing my responsibility as an owner. Maybe a thief barged in and took my invaluable.

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