Girl in the attic

I have finally moved into my new house. It’s spacious enough since I’m living alone. As I walked through the rooms, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of excitement and anticipation. I could already imagine how I can to decorate the rooms, that would suit my taste perfectly. The living room will be comfortable and cozy, with book shelfs, as I’m kind of a book worm.

Now you must be thinking, why would a twenty-four year old man like me read books? Well the answer is simple. I’ve actually always liked books— since I was five. It’s quite an interesting hobby I have, despite my age. Now that I live alone, I can read all the books I want. Each room would be filled with books lined up on the shelves. 

The kitchen—where I would do my cooking— would have the perfect layout. I can already picture the family gatherings me and my family would have, sitting on the  marble-patterned dining table, filled with delicious foods. The kitchen counters and drawers would contain things to help with my cooking: sauces, utensils, spices. You name it.  

I love the idea of having a small garden, filled with plants and flowers. It would be like a quiet, serene place where I would unwind after a long day. Living alone gives me the freedom to set my schedule, and do what I like, enjoying my own space, with nobody to intervene. I can’t wait to make it fully like home. The process of unpacking would have its challenges but it’ll all be worth it in the end. Each box has items that hold sparking, nostalgic memories. From choosing paint colours, to adding bits of details to make this place feel like home. 

I’m looking forwards to making countless memories in this new place. With friends, families, neighbours, anything at all. Making it feel right for me. But I look at the attic, and decide to leave it, and procascinate to sort it out next week.

My new house has finally transformed into the house of my liking. The house I was picturing ever since I brought it. There were paintings everywhere—hanging like statement pieces, if that’s what I’d like to call it. Each one holding a sense of warmth and character to my home. It’s amazing how art can really transform a space, and I couldn’t be happier. The day came to an end and I flopped into bed, the silk covers against my face—an unexplainable feeling of comfort.

Soon enough my eyes began to flutter shut, as a wave of drowsiness consumed me and I slowly fell asleep, each muscle relaxing one by one. The sounds around me fading away. My vision blurring as i entered the state of REM sleep.

Suddenly, a nightmare began subtly, my breath shortened, a feeling of unease washed over me, a sense of being underwater without the ability to breathe. Then, a wave of panic overcame me as as I found my dream worsening by every second. I struggled to find my way up as the heavy sheets of water dragged me further below. Desperate gasps only bringing water into my stomach and filled my ears. Blurry shapes could only be seen as I looked up. Panic was an understatement at this point. I started squirming and thrashing around in my sleep. Pained and strangled moans escaped my mouth as my hands tightly gripped the sheets, as if afraid to let go—it felt so real.