I was always prone to let myself drown by my own misery. I had mastered the art of self-pity.
And in all those years living like this, I had found joy. It was my secret happy place, even if others would disagree. I had found the place, or rather the state of being, in which I was comfortable with myself. A place I would escape to gather my thoughts and in many ways a place where I felt understood. I was well aware of all my wrongdoings and flaws, and there was no one there to judge me.
I was never a bad person. One might think you have to be a murderer or a bad parent to find in the mold. I had never killed anyone or anything, except for the annoying flies and bloodthirsty mosquitoes. I always thought I was too good or too weak to go for bigger victims, it's up to you to decide. And then again, whatever you think of me, doesn't bother me at night. I sleep well like most of you. Despite the occasional nightmare, I sleep safe and sound.
I had always been able to move in the shadows unseen. It was, for whatever reason, typical for me to choose the most complicated scenarios to live by. It was like if a beginner would jump on the black slope as their first option. And I had, most of the time, been successful. Applauded. Cheered at and praised. But when my journey had to be halted, I switched on the darkness and in my blackness healed my damaged soul.
Until that night, everything went according to my well-designed plan. I pushed the key into the keyhole and turned it counterclockwise to get rid of the lock. I then, turned the key clockwise to open the door. And with my left foot, I pushed the door open.
My eyes scanned the place. It was indeed what I had paid for. I entered the room and with my right foot guided the door to its original place and thought: "Is the destiny of a door to remain closed or to be opened?". I shook my head in disbelief. Who was I to even ask such questions?. Who cared for my opinion in such vain matters?. I knew better than to be questioning things.
Once the door was shut behind me, I let myself sigh. Nobody there to ask me silly questions either. I sighed and it felt good. I felt free. I had tried sighing more than once and I only gave the wrong impression. It was something liberating, something freeing, yet they didn't understand it as I did. I shrugged and proceeded to bed.
I passed my hand over the bed linens as if I could tell the material it was made of. It was soft and cool as I liked it. I looked up.
The drapes hung in such a sad way. Like tears melting away in a funeral home. They had been placed as if someone wanted all the light away from this room. And they had done a marvelous job. Only enough light shone through, just enough for me to make up the place of the things and furniture in this small hotel room where I was going to seclude myself for the next 13 nights. It had been thirteen years already and I had to celebrate.
I laid my backpack on the bed and walked towards the window. It was 11:59pm. I was tired and drained from my journey. I felt numb and everything was blurry. It was another Friday night and I was ready, despite the ache and the low morale. I walked towards the balcony and with a swift jerk, I opened the door.
I stepped out and it was then when I saw him, across from my hotel, under the moonlight. I had never believed in the devil but after that night, I knew he was real.
And in all those years living like this, I had found joy. It was my secret happy place, even if others would disagree. I had found the place, or rather the state of being, in which I was comfortable with myself. A place I would escape to gather my thoughts and in many ways a place where I felt understood. I was well aware of all my wrongdoings and flaws, and there was no one there to judge me.
I was never a bad person. One might think you have to be a murderer or a bad parent to find in the mold. I had never killed anyone or anything, except for the annoying flies and bloodthirsty mosquitoes. I always thought I was too good or too weak to go for bigger victims, it's up to you to decide. And then again, whatever you think of me, doesn't bother me at night. I sleep well like most of you. Despite the occasional nightmare, I sleep safe and sound.
I had always been able to move in the shadows unseen. It was, for whatever reason, typical for me to choose the most complicated scenarios to live by. It was like if a beginner would jump on the black slope as their first option. And I had, most of the time, been successful. Applauded. Cheered at and praised. But when my journey had to be halted, I switched on the darkness and in my blackness healed my damaged soul.
Until that night, everything went according to my well-designed plan. I pushed the key into the keyhole and turned it counterclockwise to get rid of the lock. I then, turned the key clockwise to open the door. And with my left foot, I pushed the door open.
My eyes scanned the place. It was indeed what I had paid for. I entered the room and with my right foot guided the door to its original place and thought: "Is the destiny of a door to remain closed or to be opened?". I shook my head in disbelief. Who was I to even ask such questions?. Who cared for my opinion in such vain matters?. I knew better than to be questioning things.
Once the door was shut behind me, I let myself sigh. Nobody there to ask me silly questions either. I sighed and it felt good. I felt free. I had tried sighing more than once and I only gave the wrong impression. It was something liberating, something freeing, yet they didn't understand it as I did. I shrugged and proceeded to bed.
I passed my hand over the bed linens as if I could tell the material it was made of. It was soft and cool as I liked it. I looked up.
The drapes hung in such a sad way. Like tears melting away in a funeral home. They had been placed as if someone wanted all the light away from this room. And they had done a marvelous job. Only enough light shone through, just enough for me to make up the place of the things and furniture in this small hotel room where I was going to seclude myself for the next 13 nights. It had been thirteen years already and I had to celebrate.
I laid my backpack on the bed and walked towards the window. It was 11:59pm. I was tired and drained from my journey. I felt numb and everything was blurry. It was another Friday night and I was ready, despite the ache and the low morale. I walked towards the balcony and with a swift jerk, I opened the door.
I stepped out and it was then when I saw him, across from my hotel, under the moonlight. I had never believed in the devil but after that night, I knew he was real.
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