I haven't been in this room for over
a year. The last time I was here it was right before he left, before he left
me. Everything had stayed the same from when he once lived here. Everything
thing had so many emotions and memories with it.
His journal lie on the old dusty nightstand. Once I dusted it off and shined the
light on it, the bright red leather lit up the dark room. It only had about
three or so pages filled. He wasn't necessarily a writer but his father was hell bend on
making sure he would become one. He always whined about needing to write to
please his family. I just hope he knew we loved him no matter what. He was the
light of our lives, even when he wasn't shining so bright.
“I
know…” His voice whispered from the hallway. It sent shivers down my spine.
I
had been hearing his voice for a while down but it never was as clear as it
just was. It always would say my name or “hi,” but this was the first time it
was a full sentence or answered my thoughts. I peeked out into the hallway to
find it as empty as ever. I don’t know what I expected. I knew he wasn’t here,
just my brain playing games on me. Cruel games, if you ask me. I continued to
look through it room. I laid down on his bed and buried my face in his pillow.
The scent of him was so fresh and relieving. I don’t come back here much often,
so any thing of his brings unbelievable joy and pain. I felt one tear hit the
pillow and immediately jumped off the bed. I had ruining so much before; I
can’t ruin his fresh smell from the pillows.
A
cold gust of air flew through the window, which normally wouldn’t have been a
problem but the window wasn’t open when I first walked in. I stood up to close
the window when the sound screamed through the room, the sound of a creaking
floor. As I paused to make the noise stop with it, I was shocked to find the
noise continued. The thought dawned on me. I’m not alone, I never was. In the
mirror I could see a reflection of someone, a man. I spun around to be face to
face with him. I reached out to make
sure it wasn’t really him, just a ghost or a figment of my imagination, though
I was tragically disappointed. The second it felt his skin I retracted.
“I
thought you were dead. What are you doing here?” The words felt so weird to
say, they barely made it out.
All
of a sudden he wasn’t next to me, he was on the other side of the room. I
wanted him next to me but I also liked feeling like I space to breathe. He
slowly took one step closer to me, and then when he saw I was okay with it he
took another. I wanted to be back in his arms but with ever step closer he
became, the louder and faster my heartbeat. Before I knew it he was right next
to me, and my heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest.
“I
was. What are you doing here? You’re the one who’s in my room.”
Love Sara :)
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