the door brought me to a place
i knew all too well;
my old house.
we were standing in the hallway,
my mom and i.
i was still so young.
my mom and older brother
were going to his soccer game.
i was mad that day,
i can't remember why.
it was probably for a silly reason,
because my mom was smiling
broadly.
she said: 'now that we will be gone for a little while,
you are the man of the house.
watch over it, okay?'
she softly kissed my forehead.
and i smiled at her,
and i felt happy again.
'i will, mommy.'
i replied,
hugging her tightly.
'i will until you come back,
promise.'
she squated in front of me
and hugged back.
'i will see you soon,
my little man.'
i kept my promise,
but i couldn't have known
that i would still watch over the house
after years had passed,
because they never returned.
*
the memory came back to me
as if the lighning stroke me.
it hurt,
deeply,
greatly,
but i closed my eyes
and allowed myself
to let it go.
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄
Short Storyan almost decade old story. * "one tragedy changed their lives." a story with dialogues and minimal description, in which a boy ends up in the hospital after a car accident and his friend slowly collapsing under the weight of his tortured mind. but...
