So two days ago (sorry I had a lot of work and personal stuff to tend to, to update) I asked my landlady if she had seen Kyle in a while. She seemed very confused, so I clarified by asking her about the tenant next door to mine. She seemed even more confused. Then she told me the last tenant moved out 4 months ago and she has had a hard time finding someone to move in. I, Zeke, the cynic, the bastard, called her out on this bullshit prank.
She seemed a bit offended, as she took her keys and walked with me to the apartment next door. She opened it and what I saw tied a knot in my stomach so harshly I almost threw up: NOTHING.
Not a goddamn thing...
No furniture, no boxes, no Kyle. NO KYLE.
She asked me if everything was alright, as she obviously noticed I was perturbed. I lied. I went back home, and looked for all the papers Hannah's brother got for me regarding Kyle.
I choked as I realized they were all blank.
I sat on my bed thinking all night.
I am sick.
As I was sitting there I realized something. The world that surrounds us is our reality. In that moment when someone disproves your reality, your universe implodes within itself. I don't know what to do. Maybe this is what depressed people feel every day. Poor bastards.
My obsession with Kyle has been simply that: an obsession. Something crazy people do. Am I crazy?
I haven't talked to Hannah in two days. Maybe I need to. But I am scared. What's happening?
I don't think you're crazy. I mean, Kyle at least -did- exist at some point. And this PLAGUE guy is bothering you, so.. Maybe it's something else? Maybe Afraid at Home wasn't just ramblings of an insane man.
ReplyDeleteI am going over to Hannah's today finally to talk about it.
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