Jimmy

It was 3 day after my wife died in a car accident, I never expect__ed anything__ to happen, but it never surprises me, as I have wish for something usual happen, something that bring me to her, and in times like this, I don’t think of the consequences.

It was 4pm and just got back from the funeral, as her parents took the liberty to ask me if I would to go through her stuff, in such relationship between me and her, it is too great to say no. It was once a place full of warmth, and light, yet, now it was twice as cold, and lonely, it feels empty here. I started with a box full of pictures, look at the good old times we had, which reminds me of the pain that I’m facing right now. I moved on to some of her paper work, mostly payment and bills, and some of her paintings back when she was in college, close to the time when we first met. Such masterpieces she made for lifetimes, which were too painful to be kept, yet too great to be abandoned. I carefully looked through, hoping for something interesting, it gives me a chill when I looked on a very strange painting she had, it was a picture of map being parallel, the picture was a divided in half, having the same map double facing each others, on one side it was blue, while the other was in red. Right at the moment I was thinking, that it’s not just like other painting, this one tries to tell me something, it looks for like a clue, a direction, or a guide perhaps. Suddenly, curiosity that stay inside me start growing, and it got me think of investigated on this paint, behind this painting there a tag, it was appeared to be a place, an address, a familiar address, it might somewhere I’ve been to before, and below the address, signed Margaret Foster

The number on my watch appears to be ‘9:24’ as I left the house, the sky was dark once I hit the highway, It was suppose to be as planned that I would be by 10:00 and rest until the sunrise, yet, my curiosity toward the mystery keep distracting me from what I should be doing, or maybe it’s not just a distraction, maybe it is something that I got be doing, something important. As decided, I had made a turn and without looking back, without regrets, meanwhile before me awaits a black thick layers of darkness, wanting me to enter, and it kept getting darker in inches I made, only for a while, by the time my eyes adapted, it was not as dark as my imagine anymore. The road was one way straight, it is either back off, or back on, as I slowly drive, both side of the road were surrounded by wood, which god know what awaits me underneath it, by the moment I stopped, I suddenly realised that the last time I’d been hear was back when I was 10, it was a beautiful moment for a child. Me and my family came here every two weeks, for every time that we came, it’s always the same old ‘Hey Jude’ on the cassette player of the car, as the front seats belongs to the adult, and I get to sit with my sister at the back seats. Since daddy left the world. It’s best for us to move on, that just theory, sometime it is best not to leave behind memories that we once treasured it with our life, it was simply to great to be abandon. Our memories were painlessly forgotten, and the house took a hugh role of what was left behind. The was left emptied for several of year, until now

It has been approximately 30 years, since I came to this place, anything could happen during 30 years, or something should have happen. However, as I entered, I was surprised, that nothing has change, not a single item or a furniture, were moved, and there it quietly stay. Despite the fact that the ceiling, and the window were dressed up with a little dust and web, looks like the cleaning was done just 2 weeks ago. For my whole life, this was when I was first notice the taste of such fearsome. Most people were afraid of being alone, for dozen of reasons, and I only believe in one, that ‘the fear of being alone, is knowing that you’re not. Despite the stillness of this house, I still don’t that the house was emptied for all these years, someone must have been when we’re gone, and someone may be here right, now. However, my curiosity keeps me away from my fear. This could only either be an encouragement or a demonic, and neither of them that I care, yet.

Not a squeak from the wooden staircase as I stepped on the first step, it was seems so still, even with all the weight it was carrying, and there I entered the door to the second floor, on both side was once full of antiques, trophy and reward, which we had took away by the day we left, what left was photographs, photographs of what we have in the pass, we didn’t want any of them. Along the corridor, there were 6 doors which represent 5 bedrooms. And a dressing chamber. For a moment, I suddenly realise, that one of those door were wide opened, which wouldn’t really shock me, however, what’s really giving me a real push was that ‘the door on the far left’ aka the dressing room.

Back in the good old time, me and 2 brother, we used to believe that the dressing room isn’t just an ordinary room like others, we believe that this room contain all sort of things, weird things, a kind of mystery that was unsolvable in our present, we kept on imagine that we have seen it, and it was a hell of a fun. Until the time we actually saw it for real, we cried in horror and sworn not to enter the room again. It wasn’t so clear for me when it comes to remembering what happened that night, yet that was the moment I have never forget. It was something that looks like a woman holding a broken glass, or maybe a broken mirror. And that was a week before my dad having his body cold blooded in his every own bed, suffering, begging to be gone from the pain, even if it means leaving the people he loves. After all, he got what he wishes. It’s easier being dead, you don’t suffer, you don’t regret when you’re dead, you fall and dive into the sweetest dream of all lives, and slept through generation, despite what matter in the presents, and it will never matters you again. While being sorry, or perhaps, cry for the dead were far more painful, it fills you with regrets, and regrets makes you suffer.

The dressing room looks rather empty, abandons, or even cursed. The atmosphere changes as I entered ‘the door on the far left’, the smell of the living seems to be elsewhere. There were use to be cloths hanging inside the wooden closet, which was once shiny, now it was left with nothing, but dust. Suddenly a glimmer lights shines through the window. As I found where it came from, my mouth was wide opened, with a word of wisdom say “Oh My God”. It was nothing else but my every own care vertically lying on the side of the road, covered with a bright gold fire, growing and growing, with a body hang vertically from the driver seats, a body of man, who has face and features, a body which I came out from. The man who was driving that SUV was confirmed dead. And here I am, lifelessly standing. On my left existed the parallel painting when was alive. Now it was something else, It was a bright blue mirror, with a significant vision, that so clear. And in that mirror, I saw my wife, my father, and the rest of the people I cried for. After all, It was a happy reunion, and nothing from the present will not matter us again.