Roommates

27:You Were Never Mine

A/N: like what happens with my other stories, you know it's coming to an end when the chapters start to get titles. It's part of my being extra.

Sometimes we want to rule the world.

Sometimes we don't wanna leave our rooms.

Sometimes we wake up at 12am and sometimes we sleep at 12pm.

Weird they call us.

Unpredictable, they might be right.

To us, time is not what's in control.

We made it, we control it, we're above it.

We are alive when everyone is dead, and we're dead when everyone is alive.

Dead and alive. 2 words. 2 states of being.

2 states forced upon you.

You are given life and given death

But at what cost?

Strange they call us.

Unpredictable, they might be right.

To us, life isn't what's in control.

We choose what to do with it.

It doesn't throw us in pits nor take us on rides.

Uphills and downhills they call them.

What difference are they from life and death?

Very different you may think.

Wrong.

They're both states forced upon us too.

We have to go through life, we have to go through uphills.

We have to go through death, we have to go through downhills.

The sun shines after the storm they say.

It gets better and it'll be okay.

Every down has an up

Who decided which way's up and which way's down?

For all we know someone could be taking the opposite way.

Their ups are downs and downs are ups

Life makes them feel dead and death makes them feel alive

They rule the world, their world, by not leaving their rooms.

Minds are worlds too, you know.

We rule our minds, our worlds.

However, sometimes, uprisings do happen. Systems fall. Rulers get ruled. Got the picture?

You might think it's a bunch of babbling nonsense, but let me tell you- it's not.

It was there. The urge to leave everything behind and go on my own.

I always suppress it, and use those anchors, but that day I knew my anchors were cut loose. I knew that that day the urge was going to win and no suppression was going to be enough.

"Good to be home isn't it?" Ryder said as he slid the key into the door to open it.

"I never thought I'd miss this stuffy room."

We were chatting and giggling as we opened the door and entered, only to find someone already there, pacing along the small space between our beds created by the desk that separates them.

It hit me hard how different two sides of the same room can be.

My bed covers were grey, while his were red.