Dating : Behind the Sofa

It’s been a few days since I came back from 4 months long trip to grandpa’s farms. Having a break was all that was there in my mind when I left this place, this very place that I call home, my home.

I can’t call it home anymore, I don’t feel safe here. Something here doesn’t feel right, something behind that sofa.

The green sofa with yellow pillows. How many wierd, surprised and mocking looks it has faced, I can’t count. But this is not it.

I never told anyone where I got this from but now I realise the biggest mistake of my life. Now it’s haunting me.

I can’t see what is but I can definitely feel it, around me, surrounding me, engulfing me.

That sofa was my only companion in sad-rainy nights, can’t count the number of comedy, romance, drama and horror shows I’ve seen sitting right there but now I can’t even pass by it.

I’m sitting here, five feet away from that sofa, holding a kitchen knife, staring at those lush yellow pillows laying over it.

I can’t have that comfort back, I can’t shake off that feeling of being watched, I can’t look away. What if it’s just sitting there, waiting for me to turn away and then…it attacks.

My cell phone’s ringing, who’s calling? No one can call me, my incoming expired before I left for farms and I haven’t renewed it.

My phone is right there on the dining table, where I left it the first time I had meal after coming back.

It’s stopped ringing, who was that? What was that?

My heart is trying to beat out of my chest, my armpits are soaking wet, I can’t move, I can’t look away.

I can feel the presence, I can feel it, behind me.

Something’s moving behind me. Who’s that?

There’s no one, but I felt something, someone was there.

I should go and sneak a peak behind the sofa, I must look.

No I can’t, I can’t look beast in the eyes, I can’t go looking for the beast, I must wait here. I must.

It’s been two days and I’m still sitting here, holding a kitchen knife, I haven’t slept in five days and my back is stiff, my eyes hurt and my mind is going blank but it hasn’t come out yet. There’s probably nothing, I’m being paranoid.

But I can feel it. I can’t deny this so obvious felling of being surrounded, surrounded by something other than these walls and furniture and just air. There’s something else, something more intense, something more dense.

I’m sure there’s something behind that sofa, it’s quiet but it’s there. The sofa I used to spend sleepless nights on, the sofa I first kissed my long time crush on……the crush who became my life partner and then was murdered on that same sofa. Cops haven’t caught them yet and I haven’t cleaned the blood off, I’m not going to. This blood is the only physical possession of the love of my life left with me.

Julie said yellow pillows doesn’t go well with green couch but I like yellow and I like green, funny enough it’s red too now, dark red, dirty red.

I feel like crying, I want to cry but I can’t, my eyes are dry, my lips are dry, my head hurts and my body shivers but I can’t move cause something behind the sofa is watching me, waiting for me to turn away. Waiting to attack.

I can’t call for help, what if it’s sleeping and I wake it up, inviting the attack, no I can’t call, I can’t move. I have to stay here, watch it while it watches me, attack it if it attacks me.

I’m shaking, my hands are unstable, my fingers are sweaty, I can’t hold on to it anymore.

I’m scared, I’m so scared, nothing can help me now. Why doesn’t it just come out and get over it? I’m tired of waiting.

Just come out and kill me or leave for good, leave me alone, I still have to grieve my love.

I’m so exhausted, angry, I want scream, I want to get out of here.

But I still can’t look away, I can’t turn, I can’t go out.

Emotions are bubbling up in my throat, why did I even come back from the farms, it was so open and safe. It was a good change but now I’m back, back to this place where the person I was supposed to spend my life with was murdered. I can still smell the blood, hear the screams. It’s scary.

This place is scary.

It’s so dark, the only source of light is that crack in the kitchen window and it’s too far. I can’t think about that, I need to focus, focus at what’s hiding right in front of me, behind that sofa.

Is something behind me? I am feeling something behind me, it’s…it’s getting closer, what is it? Door was locked, how did it enter?

It’s…it’s…I can feel it, it’s getting closer. Where should I go? What should I do?

I can’t fight it. I can’t turn towards it. I must run, must run. Door is closed, I can’t go out, I don’t have time.

Up the stairs, yes. Up the stairs.

Help! Help! Help!

No one’s coming, my voice is echoing in my own head. I can hear nothing but my own screams.

Why is it still following me? There’s no way. I’m approaching the edge, I can’t think of any other way. What should I do?

What can I do to survive?

I can’t look back but I can feel it.

It’s following me, it’s still following me.

I must jump, jump to get away from it, jump….to survive.

And, I jump off my roof to be free and I’m free.

I’m not scared anymore, I’m not grieving anymore. I’m free.

Free and at peace. Going into the darkest place I’ve ever been, falling into an unending pit of nothingness, I can’t see it’s end but I’m not scared anymore.

I’m free.

Finally, I survived.