50 | StaggRJ turned off his phone. Nobody could reach him - in fact, he does not want to talk to any

50 | StaggRJ turned off his phone. Nobody could reach him - in fact, he does not want to talk to anybody either, regardless of who it could be. Nor did he want to tell anyone where he went and why. He cannot breathe in the city any longer. Things felt wrong all sudden, displaced and unsustainable.As soon he returns to San My, he will move to a new place. He contacted his real estate agency earlier. The penthouse where he lives now was a head-over-heels escape. RJ put it up for sale.He misses home or that place that he once called his home. Now? It is an empty house, stark, blue, and filled up with nothing but memories. In the end, it was their home.A place where his very own family once lived until his world shattered into a million pieces. Of whom he was robbed by fate. Nobody awaits him here. But he needed this feeling to be home, at least for a moment. He cannot let them go, at least not yet. RJ turns around and searches in his pockets for Diosas’ keys. His fingers slide over the tiny Eiffel Tower in his pocket. Before he enters, he leans against the door. Aware that no life awaits him inside, no laughter, no love, and no Daddy, I missed you so much, and I love you. He unlocks the front door and turns the little light on. Stepping into their old love nest, knowing that the memory lane could crush him.He hardly manages to take off his coat. The door slams shut and he drops onto the ground leaning his head against the door. He is unable to move forward as the feeling overwhelms him. Slowly, he opens his eyes, yet his mind is blank… as he stares into the bleak of the darkness.In the shade, his eyes become habituated with the dark. Ansty they roam over the outlines of the furniture which his dearest ones used to touch. RJ is not focusing on anything in particular, but his gaze wanders to a tiny toy still lying on the floor in front of him.Christina’s Yarni is on the ground … she must have left it here before they went to the city. A painful stab pierces his heart.On his drive, he made a quick stop at a liquor store that was still open. RJ purchased a pack of smokes together with a few bottles of his favorite bourbon. He averts his gaze, takes a deep breath, grabs his bag, opens it, reaches for his Stagg bottle walks quickly to the kitchen and grabs a glass with some ice cubes. He goes back and sits down. The icy liquid rolls apace down his throat.The coldness of the bourbon feels comforting. RJ exerts pressure on his upper and lower jaw. He is clenching his teeth to suppress those arising tears. The thing is, though, why should he stop them? This is a place where he’s free. He shuts down and keeps drinking. It’s only a room where we used to live, he told himself… just a room. Yet, it is painful to recall all the memories.RJ searches in his bag for the zippy. Actually, he usually does not smoke. But, today has been an exception in many ways. He snatches the pack of cigarettes. While lighting the cigarette, his tears flow without restraint. The cigarette burns, he observes how the smoke dulls his senses. START | PREVIOUS | NEXT@ellemant  -- source link
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