A woman and the old asylum her and her friends used to be. |
It stood there before me. Old and beaten like a distant memory, and shrouded by the overgrown plant life around it. The cold structure beckoned to me like an old friend’s waving of the hand. I looked upon it fondly as I neared its walls. Removing some of the moss and other vegetation revealed carvings that seemed to be untouched by time. Engraved in the old bricks were the names of ten, maybe more. I ran my fingers through the markings as I read them to remember the day we had made them. A day much like this one if I remembered correctly… The sun was nearing its descent, while a friend of mine tended to one of his many gardens which we all agreed to help care for. Although we had this agreement it was still he who put the most work into the plants, how he loved to care for them. As I stood there stuck in my subconscious, a familiar breeze blew by. While I breathed in that cool crisp air my memories piled up, all with that same breeze. Looking at those gardens now they bore no resemblance to their past form and appeared to look more wild and untamed than anything else. “Hah,” I said to myself. “An untamed flower. Tiger Lilies so vicious.” It was more than a good thing that no one was around to hear that. I shook my head as I entered what had once not been so foreign to me, muttering “Idiot.” I peered through the darkness that surrounded me and could make out a rather intriguing shape. I reached my hand out to it to find that it was a light switch, covered in cobwebs. Removing my hand from it quickly then shaking it off, I wondered if the old generator had any juice left in it, let alone still worked. I shrugged and flipped the switch with one smooth gesture, was worth a try. The lights above me stuttered for a while before finally turning on, exposing to me what was hidden in the shadows. Walking around, getting more accustomed to my new environment, I couldn’t help but notice how much had changed. Everything was left nearly intact or in somewhat good condition, enough to still bear resemblance to what it was, anyway. I walked over to my old office, but stopped at the door to admire it. I gripped the knob tightly as I turned it, walking though, bracing myself against the ancient wood. It creaked as I proceeded through it and slammed shut as soon as I was out of its way. I turned around to look at the door once more. Just to be sure I grabbed the knob and tried it. It still turned, all was well. Flipping on another light switch that was at my immediate left I could see my old desk and shelves. Dust covered every inch of this sacred place and I dared not put my finger on the majority as I examined it. Stripped of the many books, stories, writings, photos, seemingly infinite amounts of albums, game consoles and games along with accessories; the shelves had since lost their warmth with only their cold husk remaining. From the corner of my eye I glanced at my old hat rack and shook my head, laughing lightly at the vast varieties of hats that thing used to hold for me. I smiled as I sauntered over to my favorite chair. My old spinny chair that had been with me from the beginning right to the very end, prevailing even further than any of us since it still remained. I wiped it off, sank into the marshmallow soft cushion, placed my feet up on my desk and my hands behind my head. It was here, I remembered, where it all began… |