The monster

Guilt

I felt sick to the stomach from the inside, when I went down for breakfast. Everything looked unappetizing, so I took off from the table and roamed around the empty corridors of the mansion I lived in. Everywhere I look around I see tones of wealth but no empathy or care. Mansion filled with old paintings and grand chandeliers and statues. Once this place was filled with people, laughter and happy memories, yet I felt empty. But now, everyone slowly moved away after my parents passed away, leaving me and the servants to take care and live in the house. The servants did all the work around the house, I was mostly stuck in my room almost 24/7. Sometimes the servants have to drag me outside to get some fresh air or to stop me from doing crazy stuff.

The corridor felt just like me. EMPTY AND HOLLOW. Empty without any feelings. It was silence to the pin drop. Vacant rooms right and left. Big wooden doors covering making it look full. To me going through the corridor felt like passing through old dungeons filled with mosses and ivy hanging on the doors. Nothing felt any different but now everything is filled up with layers of dust, even after cleaning every few days in a week because of the lack of use with those items. The items fell right into place with its surroundings, yet feels like they don't fit in. Exactly like me, present in a situation yet feel excluded and omitted.
I walk forward, when the corridor came to an end, with two huge doors, made of gold covering the room. This was the room that my parents told me not to go to before they died, and me being the obedient child kept my distance, turned back and went back to my room.
I went and opened a secret chest box that I kept a secret, underneath the cupboard and only for me to use. It was golden in color with carvings of designs with my initials on it, filled with old pictures of me and my friends, when we were young, with many others and among those was a letter I had written for my parents. However I never gave it to them because I didn't want them to know what was written in it. Therefore they never read it and never will be.