As much as I got done during that time. Scans of the rest of my writings later on.
Dying rose vases line the window sill, which itself doesn’t appear to have been maintained for a long time. The concrete walkway has mostly transformed back into its earthly image and the door that used to shout “welcome, guest, to our humble home” now whispers, “please, leave this place be. Its only being held up by a memory”. I walked in, gently pushing the door aside. Suddenly, a poignant stench struck my nose, and almost set my insides on fire. I walked further in, determined to beat this force. What was this? Where was it coming from, is this just the result of a forgotten home or--? Thumpabump A noise from below. By now I became used to the smell and tried to remember where exactly the door leading to the basement was. Every step I took creaked. You feel amazing when you think one of your steps can bring down a house, but at the same time, distraught when that house is so closely tied to your past. Thump There it was again. Standing in front of the velvet basement door, I opened it and proceeded down the dark passage. “Why do creatures always choose places like this to rest?” I muttered. I kept going down till eventually- down, down, and crash on the floor. It seems something, termites maybe, ate the last several steps away. The light switch is here, right? I felt around for it, wrong, not it- wait, this one! I flicked it on but nothing happened, at least not right at the moment. One light flickered, too quickly, I only glimpsed the shapes of objects cluttered on top of eachother. Obviously, no one cleaned this place out yet. Another one flickers, letting me catch a table which I slowly made my way towards. Pure darkness and the sound of the lights trying to gather the energy to stay on. Something weird though, something I did not expect occurred. I heard a sound. A low growl at first which eventually broke into a choppy cough of sorts. “Emily?” I asked the darkness. Another light flickers on and off behind me, showing the broken down staircase- wait, broken staircase not rotted or eaten away? The growl occurs again, this time a little bit fiercer. “…Emily?” I stupidly asked the darkness once more. Felt my pockets, no gun, sword, anything. I have my belt, I thought, surely I can make use of that if need be. I was hugging the table, trying to figure out what is in this room with me. Flashbacks course across my mind, now of all time, of an argument Emily and me had last fall. She was going on and on about how we should get the doctors to help us have a kid. Like I wanted to let some damn doctor do what I can do well enough myself. I probably shouldn’t have said that to her though. Especially should not have yelled it. “Emily? Come on, tell me that’s you..”
