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I'm awoken once again by the suffocating warmth emanating from every inch of the room. I don't open my eyes.
There's barely a point in that familiar gesture, for I am still here,same place I've always been.
It feels like the first time was just yesterday and at the same time, like an eternity.
Time doesn't matter here. Nothing really does.
Adjusting myself, i look around. Maybe as a familiar gesture more than anything, as I know the layout already so clearly.
The room is empty, except only by the bed I lay in,right in the middle of the room. There's no decorations, nothing.
Something about the walls doesn't feel right. The color of the walls is a crude mix of yellows and reds, like an expressionst painting; so alive yet bizarre, incomprehensible. They don't feel attached to eachoter or to the floor by that matter, as if it everything were one piece trying to camouflage as a complete room in a way my mind can't quite make out.
Defeated,I look away; firmly grabbing the rusty bedframe as I lay back down, trying to pass the time with more sleep.
There's no dreams here.
¿Why would there be?
This is hell.
I'm sure you're curious as to how this happened. It's an easy explanation.
Once, in what feels like a lifetime, I decided to commit suicide.
The second everything turned black. I woke up here to be punished for my sins for eternity.
Sometimes, I think about the choices that led me here, and honestly, I'm still not sure I changed my mind at all. At least here, I get these moments of silence, some calm before the eventual torture; which feels like more than I could've asked for.
In an instant,I hear the loud clacking of the metallic door. When I open my eyes once again, he's here. The demon in charge of my punishment.
I always imagined the demons enjoyed doing the torture,but now I'm not so sure.
Every time, he does the same things in the exact same way. He never smiles, laughs, or barely makes a noise at all.
Always with the same serious expression in his face.
Trying his hardest to close the door gently, the same loud clank is heard, and it dissappears again; like there was never a door there at all.
And then,it happened.
Our eyes met.
His expression breaks a little, and he quickly tries to look away, but it's too late.
Something is different now,in both of us.
Proceeding like usual, he approaches the bed; his head low, using his black curls as a barrier against another attack of eye contact.
He slowly gains the courage and looks at me directly; his sharp green eyes are now devoid of the coldness that surround them, and in it stead, there's a profound sadness.
For the first time, one of us says something.
—Sorry.. — he mutters gently. His deep but tranquil voice awakened something deep in me.
Suddenly, I was reminded of the fact that I haven't used my voice in forever.
— I-It's o-okay. — the words come out of me clunky and awkward, announcing my nervousness.
Great ,now i've managed to embarrass myself.
He chuckles softly.
— It's really not. —his expression now of a sad smile.
I didn't know what else to say.
Resigned, i laid down so we could go through the motions.
This is what I deserve.
...