Archaic Home

I’ve been circling about the same old centrepiece stationed in this ancient household for some time now. I can’t seem to change the track of where and how I’m going, like it’s involuntarily deciding my pace. There are some woeful noises coming from across the bedroom. I can’t lie, it sure petrifies me.

I keep tapping fingers on my thigh as I complete another round, my heart only pulsating harder with every increasing tone of sound. And to add to my annoyance, there’s this flickering street light that won’t keep shut like it’s onto something mysterious. Probably unravelling a story of its own.

I think I like this house better in the daylight, when the hopeful dawn falls upon my book shelves first and kisses me morning after. But the night sky has my tranquility lost in these dim lit streets, like it was never meant to be to start with. I give in to the horrifying screams and let them consume me only to have the dawn kiss me next day. It didn’t quite feel right, the process I kept following for the sake of my sanity. But who is to decide?

I finally lie down on the creaking bed and stare at the ceiling like it’s suppose to have answers to my questions. I keep looking, just in case. My bedside clock says 02:44 AM and with every amplifying sound of its ticking, my anxiety keeps taking a toll on me by its reminiscence of distant nostalgia. The walls start to seem like they are closing on me with a montage of memories playing on them. The room next to mine was still in a chaotic cacophony alarming every sense of my being. The cries got louder in time. “Does it ever go hush?” I ask myself almost sobbing.

Turning to my window with curtains slyly moving for me to sneak the sight of crescent, like we had a lot to catch up on. It spoke to me of stars and ocean and I returned the conversation with my terrifying notion. The grumbling kept triggering me and no matter how hard I tried, my door wouldn’t shut on them. The situation seemed to have gotten out of hand, but when has it not? Learning it the hard way every night, my home doesn’t quite fit the idea of happy place that they refer to. This house has never seemed right to begin with, I should’ve never bought this place.

But what could I possibly do with all the thoughts in my head if not build a home for them?

---