The Home

​But we were sitting there; on the rooftop of the old flower shop. The shop was grey and rusty and dirty and well, empty. It seemed like a hideaway, a perfect escape for people like me and my friends. But we decided on going at its rooftop, because we thought that it isn’t good to have a hideaway, a place to hide, something to hide from this world. And, well, the earth is round; the truth will eventually come out again.

They say that such places are bad to be at. These places have an impression of being dark, haunted, vacant; suicidal. They might be true as well; I think I might’ve seen some blood patches and an iron blade at a corner. I always visited this flower shop with my friends on weekends. Had some glints, drinks and talks. We talked a lot about things without explanations, about feelings without vindications. Once one of my friends asked, “Did you see that bloodied glass near window?”

“Yeah, I saw, seemed pretty hideous.” the other exclaimed.

“I don’t understand why people do such thing. How do they even get guts to commit a suicide?” the one with brown eyes wondered.

“Maybe they don’t like surprises anymore or maybe they weren’t happy with their life anymore.” I tried to reason out.

“Or maybe they were homesick and craved to go back home.” One with the blue eyes replied.

“What do you mean?” I questioned. If a person actually feels homesick, he might as well leave his things and just go back home, back to his family, or friends or whoever the ‘home’ is.

          He inhaled deeply, as if trying to prepare a perfect answer for my question. Then he said, “You know, our body, is made of millions and billions of tiny atoms; those atoms that were once a part of the universe. Those stars that were once part of the enormous stars that later died for us. When we die, our dead carcass gets disposed to divide and we gradually go back to stars. and if by chance there’s some kind of soul in our body, we’llstars; we’ll just bebe just flying out in the space. We’ll be going back to where we belong; we’ll be going back to our home.”

Next day, the old flower shop was prohibited by the cops for any further visits because a girl committed suicide by burning herself in there. Cops didn’t know but she in fact left to go back home.





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