Stuck inside with only one person to talk to

I often can't be bothered getting up in the mornings - I never have anything to do.

Why should I bother doing anything any more? I enjoy nothing.

I just lie on my couch and ponder my existence. I never feel happy.

My curtains are hardly open.

I live in darkness because I can't cope with the light any more.

It reminds me too much of what the old time used to be like.

I just want to be alone.

I was a teacher at one point.

I enjoyed seeing the faces of my pupils every week.

They would make me feel like I had a purpose in this world.

New faces would come and go, but I held every single one of those faces dear in my heart.

Sometimes I think of ending it all. Calling it quits. Giving up.

My wife, oh how I loved her. She was my everything.

She's gone now.

We tried for children for so many years that I've lost count.

We could never figure out why.

I was devastated.

I thought about my later life, and living without children was unbearable for me.

I shut out everyone.

It is brighter today.

I can see the white from under the curtains. Even that hurts my eyes.

What have I done to myself?I hear things sometimes.

It sounds like children's laughter.

Am I really going mad?I can't be hearing things. No-one comes around here. No-one can.

Should I get up and check?No, there would be no point.

It's a wasteland out there now - nothing like I remembered.

I can remember looking out my window and seeing the countryside, with cows grazing over green pastures.

Occasionally, I would think one would make eye contact with me and I felt like I was being engaged into conversation, like I was chosen especially for this creature to talk to. The amount of trees I used to see every day was extraordinary.

Mixtures of greens, browns, yellows and red all coloured the skyline.

It was like a painted picture out my window.

The curtains are forever closed now; no point looking out there now.

''Why don't you just open the curtains and check? You keep looking out there, so why not just, have a peek?''

I ignore him. He doesn't know what he is talking about.

''Nothing is wrong out there. It's all in your head. You're imagining everything.''

Why is he still talking? Can he not see I don't care?I know truthfully what has happened. It's over for me.

''Just look, come on. There's no harm to be done by just checking.''

''Shut up!'' I yell at him.

I get up and walk to the kitchen. No way am I sitting there listening to that [rubbish]. I know what has really happened. There's no going back for me now.

I have enough food to last me a long time now, but I still constantly check the refrigerator to see if new things appear at all.

It's human nature to check and check and check.

I can hear things outside. I swear I am going mad.

There can't be anything out there now. There's nothing left for me.

''Just take a look, the smallest look. You will understand if you just have a look.''

''I just, I just can't, and you know that.''

Why should I bother? He doesn't understand anything.

The nerve he has to say that I would understand if I look outside.

Understand what? What is left to understand?My world has ended. I have nothing left. Everyone left me.

''Everyone has not left you. You have shut them out, refused them entry to your life. I know they wanted to be here for you. No way could your family and friends just forget about you. What about our wife? Our beautiful wife.''

''You don't get to speak about her! She was the most beautiful creature in the world, and she's gone now. Dead. She's a memory. That's it.''

''She's not dead. You pushed her away and forced her to leave. She loved you. She still loves you. She is just waiting for you. You need to get over this.''

''Enough!''

There was a smash. I couldn't control my anger any more.

I threw my fist out and smashed the mirror. Glass went everywhere.

I can still see him on the floor. He doesn't look too good now though.

I'm going to have to clean this up.

He made me do that, but now the only person who I could speak to is gone.

Was he only trying to help? How did he know that I thought everyone left?

I thought that to myself. Was I talking to myself?

I must have been - how else would he know?

Was he just a figment of my imagination, or was he really all in my mind, speaking my inner thoughts?

Maybe I should listen to him. Maybe I should look outside.

Here I am, standing behind closed curtains. I reach out and touch the curtains.

I'm getting to a point where I am caressing them.

I haven't touched them in a long time.

I forgot how silky they were to the touch.

I close my eyes.

I'm finally ready.

 


 

• By Josh Isaac, Year 12, Cromwell College


 

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