Broken but still family

The dance of the fireflies

I woke up in a sensation of softness and warmth surrounding me. It was a pleasant and distantly familiar feeling that made me relax. I turned to the side, shivering when the coldness of the fabric sends shivers through my body. I roll back to the warm spot I had made for myself in the warm bed. Bed? This is not my bed! I quickly scramble out of the pleasant warmth I had been left to sleep in. I instantly regret my actions. The air in this room had a chilling atmosphere and the temperature was far from what I was used too. Stars it feels like someone left all the windows open overnight! It wouldn't surprise me if that was the case. 

This room...it's familiar...it makes memories swirl around in my head like sand on the bottom of a shallow lake when oars split the crystal clear surface. It can't bee! I turn around slowly taking in everything from the warm light yellow walls, to the framed pictures and drawing. The skilled made woodwork on the closet and dresser made birds fly whit flowers of all kinds imaginable. The soft carpet under my skeletal feet was soft and had small golden threads in it, making it shimmer in the light of the candles lining the walls giving off an inviting light. The classical white candles stood in holders shaped like an orchid plant whit blooming flowers, all whit a small pearl in the center. The orchid plants steam bent into a beautiful U shaped curve whit a candleholder at the end were the candles burnt on happily. The bed was huge and covered whit a fluffy yellow duvet, pillows whit golden embroidery of an artistic sun, and curtains hanging from a wooden frame that is supported by four poles each one from a corner of the bed. I let myself fall back first into the fluffy yellow cloud. They were still there. The glow-in-the-dark stars me and him put up when we were 4. They still gave off a greenish glow.

I tried to sit up but the bed swallowed me again, why was it so hard to move in this fluffy heaven-hell? When I finally managed to get off the bed, and luckily didn't fall off it, and looked around one final time I was certain. There's no doubt. This is my old room.

I slowly let that sink in as I started remembering what happened yesterday. I fought Error, we cried, he took me here, and he gave me to him...and he laid me in here. I walked over to the closet and opened the doors not knowing what I expected to find. But I did most certainly not expect what I did find. There were my old clothes which didn't surprise me, this room seamed untouched from when I left, but there were clothes my size here. I picked out a zipper hoodie whit the same sort of artistic sun, that so delicately adorned the pillows, sown on its back. In the third drawer of the dresser, I found a pair of comfy-looking black pants, a white shirt whit the text "Here comes the sun" written in yellow letters and a pair of white socks in the top drawer. I quickly got dressed and pulled on a pair of yellow and white sneakers I found lying by the door. I took a look in the full-body mirror stationed on one of the walls. Not so bad. I have to admit he always had an eye for things like this.

I pushed open one of the double doors to my room and peaked out. Seriously, why does this place have so many double doors? I've been awake for less than ten minutes and I'm already irritated at them!

Back on track again. The corridors looked the same but darker, but seriously? what would you expect from "THE PRINCE OF NEGATIVITY!!"? I chuckled to myself.

"Good one me," I said and patted my head while laughing. Stars I must look like a lunatic, talking to myself and laughing like crazy. But then again I am currently in the residence of the biggest lunatics of the damned multiverse so maybe it's not too out of line.

I started wandering the all too familiar corridors, ballrooms, libraries, rooms, and indoor gardens and greenhouses, yes this place does have all that. From time to time I would hear shuffling of feet on the carpet clad floor, see a glimpse of a hand or a piece of clothing, or perceive whispers from the other side of walls. I paid them no mind, I was after all the intruder here. The irony, an intruder in my own childhood home. But then again they have a reason to be wary of me. I have tried to stop them whit violence, wound them physically and mentally, and I have even tried to kill then on a couple of occasions. Yeah, they have way too good reasons to be wary of me. 

I signed and sunk into a loveseat sofa in a library-greenhouse-hybrid. I remembered me and he used to play here a lot when we were kids. He would read to me or we would climb the big leafed plants that hung off or climbed up the walls. That was before I had made any friends on the outside. Before school, before the responsibility of the care of the tree of feelings, before...everything started going wrong. I don't know when where or how. But what I know is that it all went downhill.

I heard soft shuffling. I didn't give it a thought as I curled up on the loveseat. "I don't belong here," I thought as I hugged my knees closer. I could feel the anxiety and weariness of the ones outside the room that had been following me all day. Sometimes one or two of then disappeared just to return not long after.

I looked up through the glass cupule that shielded this place from the outside world at the surprisingly bright sun that had started its sail over the blue waters of the sky, back to its home shore. It reminded me that I had no such place in this world, not here and nowhere else either. I knew my negativity must be felt around the whole house but I couldn't think happy thought, couldn't smile, not right now. I zipped up the hoodie and threw the hood over my pearl white skull damning my face to the shadows hiding it from the sight of my group of 'stalkers'. I looked up again watching the moon and her crew take over the guard duties for the night and turn the ocean to a dark but still welcoming and soothing place and invite glowing fireflies up for a dance till dawn brakes once again.

I hurried out fast, showing my hand deep into my pockets. Why are they shaking? Why won't they stop? Why are my eyes wet? Stars I'm such a crybaby, ain't I? I...I need to get back to my room.

 I hurried down big and small corridors, trough rooms that I had put in one mental box after another before using five rolls of chosen amnesia ducktape to seal them away forever, or so I thought. The piano room, now whit notepapers aggressively thrown around the floor and dust covering the black piano whos sounds I knew by heart, his library, were his most treasured books were stored, a shortcut through the butterfly room where real-life butterflies and flowers of all sorts had made a home, I ran, eyes closed hard, trough our room, I didn't wanna see it. I must have shaken off my followers in this big labyrinth of rooms, corridors, and wonders, and for me, painful memories. It was wonderland and hell, in a horrible and wonderful pool of memories, adventures, and nostalgia. I felt none of their presence close by. It felt like a little weight was lifted off my shoulders. I opened a door to a bedroom I knew had two doors to two different corridors and that I thought were empty, keyword "thought". Someone had claimed this room and made it their new home. I hurried through the room and didn't as much as cast an eye on anything else than the floor. I couldn't invade their privacy when I am the real intruder.

I was too tired, mentally and physically, to give a shit when I arrived in my room. I threw my shoes off my feet not minding where they landed, I could worry about that another day. I let the hoodie fall to the floor followed by my pants. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything at all today. I didn't give a crap, I deserved it. I climbed into the fluffy heaven-hell bed and buried myself down deep under the covers and between the pillows wishing I wasn't here, that I could just leave and never return. That I could leve them all alone here to live in pice. But like they say...

You can never escape your past