Once My Home

written by silentsings


This was once my home.

Those torn down walls and broken glass once felt sufficient for someone living alone, in communion with nature. Never once, had I felt the cold feeling of isolation wash over me, when I lived in that house. After that incident, I stood among the ruins, looking straight ahead, nodding to what the police had to say in an abstracted manner.

There were no clarity in his words. First he'd say that he would find the person who did this to my cottage and take him or her to court, with a few formal words here and there, before adding that I should go see a therapist.

Only then, did I realize it was my brain talking. I walked among the thorn bushes, and the dead trees, bare of leaves on the mangled branches. I led my way through my old garden and slowly, I visualized what had happened, the scenes unfolding themselves, slowly, as the mixed feelings suffused over me.

The girl next door started to develop an anomalous behavior around me a few weeks ago. Her integrity started to fade away, and in order to get my approval, she'd sent me a belated birthday present; a crumbled wrapping paper, with a small glass souvenir, which she had received from subterfuge from a clerk in the grocery store.

I was impelled to make her see things my way, but she continued with her doings treacherously. It felt like she was a duplicate from the kids that were in my past.

And then, one warm, cozy night, she'd had enough. She burned my house down.

What led her there, I had no clue. What changed her from that sweet, innocent girl, I didn't want to know.

I lie in my hospital bed, waiting for my therapist to check up on me, and slowly, I closed my eyes, the dream dissolving.

The sanity. That was once my home.