Spectre

Spectre

I overdosed.

My body soaring on a euphoric high, engulfed in a heavenly sensation. It felt as though all my grief, pain, and sadness had been purged from my being, leaving behind only a blissful serenity.

With each step, I feel a newfound lightness, as if shedding burdens that once weighed me down. Unshackled from the judgments and expectations of others, I move with a sense of invincibility, unnoticed by the world around me. Returning to my family home, a faint smile graces my lips, invisible yet present. As I trudge through the back patio door, a wave of unfamiliarity washes over me. Once cozy and familiar, the living space now appears distorted. The beloved four-seater is replaced by a cramped leather sofa drowning in a sea of neglected laundry. Family photos adorn the fireplace mantle, each capturing a moment frozen in time, yet the tenderness they once held seems distant.


Entering my room, my eyes meet a grotesque perversion of what I've known since infancy. The room is stripped bare, its once comforting baby pink walls replaced by a cold, sterile white. Concerned, I meticulously comb through each story of the house, yet my parents are mysteriously absent within their own home. The sun is still burning, and I decide to seek out my parents, who I assume have skipped their usual family brunch in favour of some undisclosed social business event. I stride along the long and winding roads, my pace deliberate as I peer into open shops. I venture through the sizable park, setting my heart on finding my mother's cherished caf where I anticipate spotting her, enjoying a latte, and filled with laughter. The church bells' solemn melody echoes through the air, and amidst the tranquil surroundings, I catch a faint whisper of movement, drawing my curiosity.


Beneath the dying winter trees, sinuous shadows claw across the frozen ground. My closest family and friends are huddled in a tight circle, adorned with formal attire. They emanate an aura of warmth that saturates the atmosphere. Yet, amidst this radiant symphony, I stand as a lone observer. My voice is swallowed by the cacophonous ambiance as I call out. I almost fail to recognize my own mother; she appears lost, her expressions distant and blank. Unkempt and forlorn, she looks like a living, breathing zombie. Venturing behind the somber group, I reach for my father's shoulder, seeking solace in his embrace, but my hand finds only an eerie hollowness as he eludes my grasp. Reality blurs, and I question if I'm ensnared in a never-ending dream, a dark premonition unfolding. The snow-covered ground fails to sear my skin with its chill. The procession moves, revealing an emerald stone emerging from the earth, bearing an uncanny name, one I know all too well--my own. This peculiar dream is now unfolding into a grim nightmare. Tulips in a soothing orange hue and figures of gentle doves grace my eternal resting place. I plead desperately with my mind to release me from this horror, but my pleas echo in vain, imprisoning me in a reality that defies reason.


Everything and everyone persist while I remain a lost spectre on the other side of life.