Home (2017)

The chill surrounds me and slips into my bones despite the blanket wrapped tightly around me. I relish the tightness that forms in my bones almost the moment the cold knives touch me. I smile and I look up at the sky above me. It's dark blue, illuminated orange by the numerous street lamps on the streets. Clouds block my view of the stars and my smile turns to a frown. I yawn and shift positions. I feel my knees lock into position and I find I can't remember how long I've been sat in this position. There's a painful throbbing above my left knee, tension trying to release itself, and I ignore it. I don't move. I barely breathe. I turn my gaze skyward once more and inhale the fresh air. Or as fresh as air in a shitty village can get. I realise I can't feel my exposed skin and poke at my arms. Pain explodes in the area and I sigh heavily. I know I should go inside. But it's two in the morning and peace has settled over the crappy world I live in. It would be a shame to pass up on staying here for a while. It's nearly three in the morning and I blink the bleariness from my eyes. As much as I love the feeling of cold enclosing me and making everything painful, I refuse to fall asleep outside in nothing but a shirt, underwear and a blanket that offers little protection. I sigh and eventually stand on shaky, locked legs that hurt to walk on. I take a breath and open the back door. My dog blinks at me, disturbed from slumber as he heaves a sigh. He rolls over and settles back down. I step inside and shut the door, locking it behind me. I stumble back to my seat on the couch and collapse there, wrapping the blanket tighter around my body. My hand finds the remote, and the poor rated horror movie begins to play in the dark again as my thumb hits play. I try and focus, but the plot is so bad, I end up staring at the wall. It's four in the morning now, and I stare at the clock in disbelief. Where did the last hour go?
I'm sure it was only a few minutes since
I last looked at my phone, before I began to look at the
curled black flowers on the wallpaper my mom chose to decorate the feature wall in the living room. I check all the clocks downstairs, but for sure, an hour has passed. There was something liberating as I sat back down. I spent an hour doing nothing but stare at the wall, and there are no consequences for not doing work, not doing chores, not focusing on my upcoming deadlines. A laugh bubbles from my lips as I focus on a new cheap horror movie. It's not long before I fall asleep on the couch. Tired from disassociation and heartache. It's how I became a nocturnal animal. Every night I stay up late for the time where there are no consequences. Nothing pressures me, just the soft beep of my partner replying. I know I don't have to run to reply to them, know they're okay and they're safe. It's a strange feeling, never having to be concerned and worried all the time in a conversation with the person I'm dating. It's also liberating. Every night, I stay up and do what I want to do. Not what the world wants me to do. Not what my mother or my college wants me to do. It's just me. My only company, the soft notification of my partner and the dog that stayed up to protect me and sleep on the rug, curled in a ball. It's quiet. It's welcoming. It's Home.