Original My Home - A Short Story

hey, it's me, that depressed pissy-mooded bitter petty scum guy

just a lil word from me before the actual short story

first off what the heck are you doing still reading this it's december as of the time i'm posting this and the above adjectives i've used to describe myself should've driven you off right now

this story really aint the kind of jolly thing to read on a december, i would've written something related to such a wholesome mood, but alas, again i bring up the above adjectives, im not the happiest camper and recent events relating to both my personal and online life brought with me the dark thoughts that led to this story's creation

also i typed this in like a day for a short story school assignment due next year, just felt like i needed to get that outta the way

Spoiler: the story thing

My Home


She was scared. Understandably so. At least with concrete answers we are given a sense of closure to our worries, be it for better or for worse. But with ambiguity, a sense of uncertainty remains lingering. With that uncertainty comes the unknown, bringing with it the desperation for something recognizable to grasp.


All she had to grasp was her own senses. She was but a dainty and hesitant figure amidst a line of fellow people. Adults, mostly. Some with little children companions of their own. All with baggage. All doing their own idle action to pass the waiting time, nameless bodies bearing their own nameless purpose.


She had her own purpose too. The very reason she was here in such a packed place continued to echo in her mind. She knew why she was here. What she didn’t know was what would happen afterwards. Yet, even if she knew her own name and her own purpose amidst this queue of waiting individuals, she felt out of place. All she had was herself and her luggage. Poor girl.


It’s then that she meets the curious, innocent stare of a child, possibly the son of the adult in front of her. She was not sure what mood she conveyed when she stared back. Yet, she noticed the child seemed to look up at her with adoration, like one youth does upon meeting a taller person. An adoration not restricted to how a child views a parent or any other figure remotely older and taller.


The line shuffles forward, busy voices becoming busier. She silently winces, remembering how her age grants her adolescent privileges over this child. Surely, she did bear the maturity required to make her way to such a location on her own. whereas this child was brought here by his parents. Even then, as she stared at the little boy, she longed for the presence of her own role model she could cling to in times of need. She never got to meet her parents.


There was only one who she could call as such. One who she could depend on, most likely. Not so much the parent part. A childhood friend, you could say. She briefly reminisced on how they both shared an ambition of seeing the world before parting ways with heartfelt goodbyes. Even if it meant going their separate ways, she wished that was how their story ended. On a good note set in stone. That way, she wouldn’t have had to hear the news of the explosion that struck a worried nerve. She ultimately hoped that such an attack wasn’t the cause of the lack of emails or messages. At most, perhaps he could be injured, she supposed. Perhaps preoccupied in helping with the added conundrums caused by such a catastrophe. He was usually nice like that, she supposed.


She shuffled forward with the queue, making sure her occupied hand is still busy gripping the handle keeping her belongings together. The very reminder of her dear friend sent her the echoing reminder of her current objective. She needed to be strong and get through this. Determination and all that. The reinforced look of resolve on her face that follows her brief recollection is amusingly uplifting given her change of tone. Admittedly cute, even.


It’s then that she noticed the child turn away from her to face back to the idling adults ahead. She started to toss up whether or not her expression shift mid-staring-off-into-nothing threw the young boy off guard. At last, she let out a breath as she settled with the excuse that it was simply because of her big, white, bonnet-like hat. Almost bonnet-like. She wasn’t sure what such a hat was called, all she really knew about it was how it made her stand out in a crowd. Most of the time. To everyone else around her, that was not one of those times. Yet, she didn’t dwell on her ability to be recognizable. Even if she still pulled off that red and blue getup. What she was struck by was about how her dear friend really liked his own hat too.


Such thoughts and memories continued to resurface in her mind. However, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Due to recent events she was aware of, security needed to be more assertive. Even if an innocent girl as herself had nothing to worry about, she still felt intimidated regardless. Only then once she recalled why she was there in the first place would she remember who she was doing this for. She had already come this far, best see it to the end. Not that there was any way of backing out of a paid ticket, she supposed. Luggage clear and safe, belongings intact, she pressed onward.


Eventually, the vaguely familiar faces from the queues prior thinned out as crowds parted ways to take the paths to separate destinations. She was once again reminded of the heartfelt goodbye she exchanged with her friend as they saw each other in person for the last time since then. While the recollection of such a bittersweet piece left a melancholy tinge, she made her decision. This time, she’d be following him, just as she wished she did.


And with that, she overcame it all. She took to the skies, and all that was left was the waiting game before she finally got her answers. As she gazed out the window, bright inspiring blue meeting her sincere sunset irises, she reassured herself one more time before letting slumber take over.


That was the most I could bring myself to see. At least with that, I managed to see her peaceful face one last time. One last time before she’d witness the closure that awaited her. Even then, it ached how I was left to witness without being able to reach out. How badly I wanted to tell her that I wished I followed her too, on that heartfelt day.


But alas, I could only bring myself to stare unto her sweet smile for so long. As much as it pained me, I had to go, back to my home, the darkness.