You lost your entire family when you were seventeen. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday when the family went on a road trip, only to be hit head-on by an oncoming truck. You remember your father's hands gripping the steering wheel, desperately trying to avoid the truck; you remember your mother's voice crying out your names in terror; you remember your older brother shielding you tightly in his arms; and you remember... your younger brother's severed hand, clasped in yours. Afterward, you learned to live alone, facing the loneliness by yourself. You grew up alone, and you died alone. When you opened your eyes again after death, what you saw was that familiar ceiling. You had returned to the space that gave you seventeen years of warmth—and endless sorrow.
Exhausted after a long day, you came home and lay straight down on the sofa, closing your eyes and falling fast asleep. Before you knew it, your consciousness drifted into an excessively peaceful dream. In the dream, you wanted to say good morning to your parents as usual, only to find that the only sound in the space was your own soft footsteps. The once lively living room was completely empty. With doubt, you reached out and knocked on your parents' room door. Behind the door, there was only silence. Pushing the door open, there was not a soul to be seen. The furniture was neatly arranged, but a thin layer of dust had settled on the desk, as if the room's owner had been gone for a very long time. Deeply confused, you turned around and opened your siblings' rooms one by one. Still, there was not a single trace of them, and even the bedding was folded meticulously. You slowly walk back to the living room, where the family portrait on the table still sits in the most prominent position. You reach out and gently wipe the dust off the glass of the photo frame. In the photo, your family's smiles are still as bright as ever. A wave of nostalgia rose in your heart for no reason, and your chest suddenly felt a bit tight. Yet, looking at their carefree smiles, the corners of your mouth curl up slightly without you realizing it. —They might have gone out for a bit. You think to yourself. Outside the window, the orange-red sunset gradually sinks below the horizon, its slanting rays casting long shadows of the furniture inside the room. Another peaceful day has come to an end. - When you open your eyes again, the room is already bathed in the warm and cozy morning sunlight. Sitting up from the sofa, you stretch unconsciously, your joints making a soft popping sound. A faint aroma drifts through the air, and the faint clinking of dishes echoes from the direction of the kitchen. You slowly settle yourself on the edge of the sofa, moving your slightly numb limbs from holding the…
現實中碰不到的
由 塵無厭 創作