As he unlocked the doors to his room (yeah, can’t call it a home, yet…) all his loneliness seemed to creep out of the darkness. He entered the room, locking the door behind him.
The darkness comforted him like an ally, a friend. He removed his shoes, undressed and sat down for a few moments, bare, almost naked. The floor was cold, especially during the winters. Each contact with the skin sent miniature electric shocks down the spine. Yet, it all seemed comforting, almost surreal. The cold tried to fight with his skin for a few moments. Then, the treacherous swine that it was, it did a one-eighty and bonded with his skin, comforting it, soothing it, lulling it to sleep.
And then the explosions began, one-by-one.
First came Frustration, which seeped in, throwing all senses into disarray. Then, Irritation and Anger mounted a combined attack, scattering all the vestiges of hope. Third came Cowardice, with its big mace, which it used to smash all notions of bravado and valor. Finally, Helplessness struck, filling in the gaps left behind by its allies. When it was all over, Desperation stood over the ruins surveying the conquered remnants of a broken soul.
Each blow took away a little more than the previous one. The brain began closing all its functions one-by-one.
From the beginning till the end, He kept hearing a laugh, that of a small child. It seemed to come from a distance. It neither grew louder, nor did it fade. It stayed where it was, beckoning him to come closer, inviting him tantalizingly, slowly driving him mad. It was the same every time, somewhere between a giggle and a chuckle, just short of being a full-throated laugh, like one of those baby videos, or ring-tones that one comes across occasionally. It dared him to come and explore, to search for it. He stretched out an arm hoping to catch it, and yet, fully knowing that he would never reach it.
And then he found himself lying on the cold, hard floor.
Oddly enough, he never shed a single tear. Maybe because of a false mojo, or maybe because he had grown accustomed to it. No, the latter can’t be true. He had NEVER shed a single tear, ever. He wondered why?
He got up and poured himself a glass of cold water. And shoved it down his throat. He wiped off the imaginary beads of sweat on his forehead, and sat at the edge of his bed. The exhaustion took its toll and he dropped back on the bed.
Lying on his back, watching the ceiling fan rotate slowly, He was suddenly reminded of the client meetings for the next day and the research he needed to undertake for his personal project. He was reminded of the post he needed to compose for his blog and about the premium he needed to pay on his insurance. The mundane took over slowly, and he shut his eyes. His sub-conscious issued a command to his brain to generate a list of To-Dos for the next day.
And he ventured into the abyss. Just like that.
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