Chapter I: The Revé Mansion
Pain started to grow, coming from deep inside my mind just like the heartbeat of a sick old man reaching its final moment; increasing bit by bit, each time stronger than before, aiming for that very end. In my case, it expanded throughout every single space in my brain like something were trying to get out of my head, while I was laying on the right side of a dark Mercedes, just waiting for that final moment to come.
It felt like I was too close and at the same time too far from it, when the pills Buter put in my hand went to my mouth. Then, the pain started to regulate to its normal point, or the way I used to call it “The constant”. Although I knew there was not much time left for it to change. – It certainly is cold – I thought to myself, while letting out a tired sigh, after being just ten minutes outside my car.
Buter and I had reached the entrance of “The Revé Mansion”, bought one week ago by the real estate agent Katherine Peterson, whom I never talked to. Based on what Buter told me, this place was recommended by many and known as “The memories house”, with that nostalgic modern architecture design, beautiful landscape and quiet environment which surrounded the entire structure. People used to say you could “breathe” those memories of the ones that were before. But for me, it was just another shelter.
You may be wondering why I have thrown so many negative thoughts in just three paragraphs, but well, at this point you’re not able to understand. I don’t know myself why I’m writing this in first place, and so you’re here, reading it. Don’t worry, as I come to remember everything that has happened so far, you will understand that one me, looking at the entrance of a new not so strange house to me, with France winter at the door and tired eyes, not feeling any way different.
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