My brain keeps on telling my eyes that they need to cry more. But my eyes cannot produce even the tiniest drop of my tears. I am perfectly dehydrated. It is as if forever, I cried infinitely because of the horror I have witnessed. I cannot dare to close my eyes, because if I did? I can see the old man’s dreadfully rotting face. It is like a painting in the dark, directly painted into my own retinas.
I cannot explain how that dead body of a man resting underneath my bed was, sleeping silently in the middle of the night.
That very night I arrived from my six month of vacation from a far away place, far enough for me to forget the heartache I felt. I enter my usually dimly lighted room, boring flat white walls and uninteresting wall painting hanging on it. My sofa is dusty and discoloration is starting to occur. I can smell dust inside my room and I can smell too a rotten rat. Tired from my trip I took no notice of these things, I directly dive into my bed and feel the softness of my pillow. Thinking that I was alone, knowing that I keep myself unaccompanied, never in my mind registered that there would be someone lifeless, dead and rotting underneath my bed. Every night I sleep there is that corpse staring blankly into my won back, eyes wide open, mouth broadly open like someone shouting for a help. Just imagine hoe innocent I was, just imagine as I feel every inch of my comfortable bed, a dead man underneath me, long forgotten, long unnoticed. Just imagine as I turn my face down my pillow, it is as if I am facing face to face the man’s horrifying image.
They say spirits will do anything just to be notice. And I can give my own testimony that this is true. As days past, I cannot smell the odor of the rotten rat inside my room, maybe the garbage’s piles were taken away already. I did drunk plenty of beers from friend’s party and it makes my bladder full of my urine. So I have to visit the comfort room every now and then to have my pee. But as I rose for the fourth times already, together checking my nearest clock and revealing that is was 3:00 am already. And I took notice of my hair standing from a much undefined reason. I never have this kind of experience ever since. It is as if the coldness is coming from the inner most part of my body the massive chillness is coming from within. So I did stand to make my pee and in a sudden horror, as my feet landed the solid floor I can feel that there is something cold and rough wrapped around my feet. In my total shocked I did produce the loudest scream I have every made. So did shake my feet to get rid of the grasping thing in my feet, but it wont release itself. I cannot see anything that moment because I cannot sleep with lights all around me. So I run towards the area where the switch on the wall rest. But I can feel that the thing in my feet keeps the grip tighter. I cannot explain the anguish that I did felt that very moment, it is as if I did face death myself. I cannot tell how scared I was, I cannot hear anything but simply the rumbling thud of my heart beat. It beat unnaturally fast and my whole body was trembling with so much repulsion. My scream never did came into a halt but rather a much prolonged scream were coming as I ram towards the switch. And as I keep on running, I can feel the weight of the thing, I can feel that I am dragging the thing with me.
From that, I collected all the remaining courage I have. As I drag this thing in me, I transmit all that courage into the tip of my finger and able to switch on the lights. At the very tick of the switch it gives the signal that the whole room was already illuminated hoping that the thing will disappear, but unfortunately it never withdraw itself. I can still feel the coldness of the thing, whatever it is, it is uncomfortable, awful and hideous. I covered my eyes tightly with my lids. I am afraid of what my eyes might witnessed this time. Again, the grip keeps on tighter and I believe that it will leave a mark in my feet after. Tilting my head towards my feet I can see a hand, pale, sunken and bones were forming in the skin and as I look further into the boney arms I can see directly into the corpse cold blank stare. He was staring directly to me, directly inside my brain and reading my thoughts. The old man’s face is rotting dry, I can see that the skin fits the skull perfectly. The horror I have now tripled of what I did felt the past few seconds.
Just as I thought that everything is already settled and with that I made myself quite mistaken. As the eyes of the old man’s dead body keep on staring directly at me and in a fraction of a second the whole body of the corpse gave a wild shake. As it shakes like an earthquake the trembling transmit it directly to my feet, which give me a cold shudder. It shakes faster and faster and you can hear the clanging of the bones against bones, an uncomfortable sound, outrageously abomination. I keep on crying, crying is the only way I can do now, and it is as if a pain reliever that cannot do something to the pain I have felt now. I scream and cried and I cried after hundreds of screams for this is the only thing I could extend because I am completely helpless. The shake stop and the noise of clanging bones echoes into the room and registered perfectly into my memory. But my scream never did stop. But gladly, the skull is not facing me anymore. But as the moment I thought that I will run the face of the skull move directly towards me and here comes again the blank cold stare. And suddenly the free hand of the dead body moves towards my face, reaching something towards me, like he wants to hold my face. As the hand move closer to me, I can smell the awful odor of the body and with great trepidation I scream as loud as I can and immediately I cannot see anything as I become unconscious.
Now, I can see how much he loves me. And I realize it not an old man, it looks like an old man because of its rotting skin and flesh. He was completely mummified by his love, able to prolong his existence just to give me the thing that I have asked him for about years and I hate him for that. And here he was lifeless but still able to give me the ring and a note to say “Will you be my wife?”
It is too late for both of us.
The reason why he is under my bed is still a mystery. All I know is I love him too, and he was murdered.
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