The After-chapter

Lost in time, uncountable. Yet, I return here without any presence again.

Today, my days of wandering are nearing an end as I carry the weight of nothingness. Across tiles of concrete creations, it's become clear now that no shadow can quite mimic the shape of mine. I love to see them try, with their attempts nonchalantly fleeting within the clouds of people I pass by.

Making my way through the spaceless corridor, I notice a room where my quivering feet once stood. Without a shadow, or a presence, I perch on that armchair in that room God made everyone forget about.

With my memories remaining an unvisited dream, I woke up amidst the calm green meadow that gently held onto me. There was warmth in the flora that encased me, but so was a sense of longing deep within me.

And so, I gave in to greed, one more time. Maybe one last time, I'd search for meaning. I pushed away this Eden and ran for myself, faster than I would for my fears. The daylight welcomed me, but with a warning. It could shelter me but it couldn't save me from the night's abysmal grasp. And so, a deal was sealed even before it was spoken of. I was made aware of the fact that I was on borrowed time.

Something tells me this wasn't my first attempt. Everything in me ached, suffocated. But I am here. Somehow. Here I stand, looking over to the bed that I despised so much in my last days.

On my tongue remains a comfortably bittersweet taste of memories. The sheets look cleaner. The pillow feels softer; it hasn't held a head down since, no longer gaping a void that would let me silence my screams. There's nothing around my bed now, not that my body needs them anymore.

Like the whirring of a grounded bird's wing, long-forgotten bitter memories in me awaken. Some visits to the doctor when it would be overdue. My eyes catch a glimpse of the framed picture by my bedside table. It shelters shades of life I couldn't love enough. It has never failed to blur my sight with tears. I open the drawers and they're empty too. Only this armchair, that bed, and its table at the side live days of despondency.

I was home again. But like always, time did not wait for me. The daylight warned me after all. The light grew orange, vividly passing through me onto my bed. Sometimes I wonder if the afternoon is aware of how eerily tranquil and beautiful it is despite being short-lived. If it doesn't, could I still wish that I was like the afternoon and that my numbered days were just as serene?

Nevertheless, I look back again, the light on the bed thinning as the sun nears its slumber. It's a familiar scenery from when I stood on the cliff of life, with the arrival of the wind left to take my fragile body down the depths of the next.

Nearing the edge, I was always afraid, regretting every decision that led me closer and closer to my demise. However, that day I was as calm as the sea below me. Perhaps it was the inevitability of fate, the fact that I got to witness a story so grand that it had to conclude before it reached out of bounds.

I wish I could trace my steps from here to the ground beneath where my body rested. But I suppose even greed cannot escape death.

There's peace hidden inside of this room. I do not know where exactly, and perhaps I never will. But it still welcomed me.

As the light mixes with the surrounding colors, preparing its clue for departure, I realize that it's not just the afternoon but its glow too which has embraced all of me.