The House

Let's just say there's this house.
It's small. Nothing amazing to look at.
The inside of the house is destroyed. I came in and ripped all the pictures off the walls. I pulled down everything off the shelves. I threw every dish in the cupboard on the floor and stabbed holes in all the furniture and pillows. I broke all the windows. Garbage and drywall are all over the place.
Now all these things can be fixed. I can patch the holes in the walls. I can buy new furniture and dishes. I can pick up everything and put it back where it goes. So I start to save money and find people to help me. They want to know how much damage there is. So I walk around my house to inspect everything. I go in every room. I go upstairs. I even for downstairs to the basement.
In the basement there is water. A lot of water. I step into the water that gets deeper as I go. When it's up to my shoulders I notice cracks in the walls. They are long and branch out a long ways. Even though I'm almost completely submerged I reach into my pocket and take out a roll of tape. It's not good tape. It's just the clear tape you use to wrap your birthday presents in. I tape the cracks one piece at a time, while trying to stay above the water. These are cracks in the foundation of the house.
I walk back up the stairs, soaked from head to toe. I call the people who want to help and tell them not to come, there's no use. I hang up the phone and sit on the floor of my house. My back is against the inside of the door. A breeze blows through the broken window nearby.
And I just wait.
I wait quietly.
I wait patiently.
I almost wait peacefully.

For the house to give way, the tape to tear and the walls to come crumbling down on me.