It felt like a bad dream, standing before the old house. It was much bigger than he remembered, though that was likely because his new house was only one floor. The second story made his childhood home so much more intimidating.
The outside had a fresh layer of white paint, covering all the blemishes and imperfections Sunny's old home had gained over the years they'd spent living there. They were the first people to ever live in that house, every mark it gained was a memory of his family. Everything was different now though.
Basil had stuck close to Sunny as they walked to the house, he could only assume his friend picked up on his unease. It did make him feel better to know that Basil was right there beside him.
A welcome mat laid in front of the door, "Welcome Home", in some kind of fancy print. Something like that would have been unheard of back when Sunny lived at the house. His family had always been simple, and modest. The message almost seemed to be taunting him. He dreaded seeing the inside. Maybe it would help him move on from everything, seeing his home remodeled. He couldn't deny there was a part of him that missed the security of the house.
He could vaguely remember the nights spent creeping from the bathroom to the kitchen, how often he would just sit at his dining room table for the better part of the night. Waiting, waiting, and waiting. For what, for Mari? He'd always end up returning to his room before his mom would wake up in the morning.
He'd slept his life away, but he didn't have a care in the world.
Though the memories of that time scared him, he couldn't deny there was something that still appealed to him about that life. This was something he'd discussed with his therapist before, but the feeling had only gotten stronger since he returned to Faraway. The call of the void.
A small voice nagged at him, If given the choice, would you return to that time? He wanted to say no, but even he didn't know the answer. He was never one to have a powerful will.
He had to be able to handle this. He was with his friends, it was going to be okay. He just had to trust in them. Nothing would go wrong. They'd all decided they wanted to see if the treehouse was still up, it remained when Sunny moved out after all. In some ways he hoped it was there, in other ways he hoped it was gone.
"Sunny, I think you should be the one to open the door, " Hero said, "It would feel wrong for any of us to do it."
Sunny nodded, that was true he supposed, it was his old house. He stepped forward, standing on top of the welcome mat. Kel handed him the keys, and he slid it into the lock. The new owners had changed the lock, naturally. It only made the house feel more alien to him. His hand wrapped around the cool door knob.
The door slowly opened in front of him, it felt heavier than he remembered. It's funny how fallible memories can be, he remembered the door gliding open last time he'd handled it.
He stepped inside of his old home, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing in front of him. His footsteps were barely audible compared to the distinct clicks shoes would leave before.
The hardwood floors had been replaced with carpet, the light beige color scheme long since replaced by elegant green and black furniture. A large TV sat against the far side of the room by the fireplace, where they'd kept their own TV. It must have been a fifth of the size of this one.
He hated it all. It didn't feel right.
But he couldn't be upset. They sold the house, it only made sense the new owners would redecorate.
He just really wished they didn't.
"Whoa… it's… different," Kel said, "I saw a little of it, but not like this. It… feels wrong."
"I don't like it," Aubrey sighed, "Doesn't feel the same without that stained rug. And carpet? Really?"
Sunny slowly walked away from the group, as they talked amongst themselves, finding himself drifting towards the kitchen. He stood at the familiar counter, this was where he'd take the knife, he remembered. Something about knives proved a comfort item to him, nowadays he could hardly stand to look at them.
What was the last thing he'd really done here, make that steak? His stomach churned at the thought of it, it took almost half a year until he even felt comfortable enough to eat meat again after the ordeal.
He slowly walked out of the kitchen, his hand trailing along the counter and the walls, keeping his pace steady and quiet. Old habits die hard.
"Hey, you okay?" Basil whispered in his ear as he returned.
Sunny nodded, and looked to the group to see what they were talking about.
Hero shook his head, "It's disappointing how different this all is, isn't it? But we have to have hope, the treehouse could still be there."
"That's right! It'd be more trouble to remove than leave, right?" Basil asked.
"It better be there," Aubrey muttered.
The treehouse. Right, if the treehouse was there everything would be okay. It would prove that everything wasn't so different after all. Despite all these awful changes there'd still be something left behind. Some memories of her in this place she called home.
If it was still there, maybe it would be left untouched, the new owners never stepping foot inside. Leaving it a time capsule of a time when Mari was still with them. Little things like that helped him feel connected to her, even though it was hard for him to even think about Mari.
The new owners couldn't be so cruel as to tear down a child's treehouse, right? They must have been able to see the childhood joy a treehouse brings, or perhaps they have kids of their own that would enjoy the treehouse.
He shook his head, the thought of other people making memories in his treehouse made him sick. He wished he never moved out. He wanted his home back. If only he'd fought his mom, deep down a part of him knew if he protested even once they wouldn't have left. If only he had been more lucid.
He tried to gather his thoughts, everyone was getting ready to head outside. He had to be ready too.
"I'll lead the way!" Hero said, opening up the sliding glass door that would lead to the backyard.
They used to go through there all the time. They'd play in the yard and go up in the treehouse to play cards, or just talk. It had been a safe place, everyone was happy when they were there.
Sunny didn't like to walk out there anymore though, he'd only done it once since the accident, and that was with his friends last year.
Sunny breathed in the fresh air as he stood in his old backyard. He closed his eyes, and it almost felt like he'd never left. The sun on his skin, the smell of grass, his friends voices, it felt like he'd woken up and he was twelve years old again. Was that possible?
A smile started to form, he eagerly opened his eyes and sighed. Cliff-faced as usual. Of course it wasn't possible, what did he expect? That time had passed, and he was never going to get it back. He was stuck here.
Life felt so cruel.
"Are you okay, Sunny?" Basil asked.
Sunny nodded, "I am, I'm sorry."
Basil smiled, "It's okay, we were all just saying it's weird being back here."
"Oh, it does. It feels the same."
"I guess it's a good thing, but it kind of gives me the creeps," Aubrey said, looking around the backyard, "It feels frozen in time."
It was just missing one thing.
He shook his head, and tried to focus on what was around him. His friends. Things were okay.
They all walked forward together, Sunny and Basil side by side. Leaves crunched under his feet as he tried to keep his head clear of bad memories. He looked to Basil for reassurance, and he gave him a smile. That's all he needed to keep going.
Until the gang came to a sudden stop.
"Oh…" Aubrey breathed.
Sunny's hands started to shake. The tree stump was still there.
"Let's just keep going," Hero said, turning back to off a weak smile to everybody, "We're almost there!"
Sunny couldn't move. His eyes were focused on the dead tree. Why couldn't they have removed it? He felt lightheaded as he stared, he could almost see something. Some… bad memories. If he squinted, he could almost make it out.
It almost seemed like vines were enveloping the stump, rotting it away before his eyes. Tendrils seeped from the stump, getting closer to him. A flash of pain in his head temporarily blinded him and he stumbled back. He couldn't be here. He couldn't be out here in this yard.
He couldn't ignore the bad memories. The leaves, the sun, Basil. It was just like the day it happened. He couldn't handle it. He should've known better than to come back here. He should've known it was a bad idea.
His breath was short as he stepped back more, his blood was roaring in his ears. He saw his friends mouthing something, but he couldn't hear it. He saw the form over the stump start to materialize and he turned away to run. Basil grabbed his hand and Sunny turned back to meet his gaze.
Tears were forming in Sunny's eyes, he hesitated for only a moment before he pulled his hand away and ran. Before he knew it he was back in the house.
He was climbing up the stairs. Those same stairs he'd quietly slipped down nearly every night. Those same stairs he crept down the night it happened. He stumbled over the steps, catching himself and then running into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. His hands gripped the counter and he lifted his head to look into the mirror.
He was a mess. His black hair unkempt, barely hovering over his shoulders. Strands of it covering his face, obscuring his vision. He lifted a hand to push his hair back. He felt the beads of sweat on his forehead.
He squinted as he stared into the mirror. He could see something else there. It wasn't there before.
The thing coming from the stump.
The thing from…
Something.
He remembered now.
He remembered everything.
He whipped his head back but it was gone. It was still here somewhere, he knew that. He remembered it would never just go away. It was still here. He frantically looked around, his vision blurring. He fumbled with the door knob, trying to twist his fingers around the lock to open it. Finally he pulled it open and ran to his room. He was safe there, he remembered that. That was the safest place he could be. The only place.
His bed! His bed would be where he was safe. That's how he could escape.
He stumbled through the door and fell to his knees in the middle of the room.
This wasn't his room.
Where was his bed?
His eyes were welling up as he struggled to breathe. Was there nothing left? This room they used to share?
Black spots were forming over his eyes now, he couldn't get enough air to keep himself conscious. He caught himself as he fell, thrusting his palm onto the floor beneath him, barely keeping himself above the ground.
He found himself staring at the floor, gasping for air. This wasn't right. He needed to escape.
He could go back, couldn't he?
He felt himself drifting, losing himself. He'd felt this way before but he'd grounded himself, or Basil had stabilized him.
But… it seemed easier to slip away. It was so inviting wasn't it? That crevice in his mind… that empty white room.
He could feel himself being watched, he knew it was right behind him, staring into him. Peering into his soul. It knew what he did. It knew he didn't deserve forgiveness, it was here to punish him. He could never get rid of it.
He only realized now it had been terrorizing him this entire last year, he just couldn't recognize it. The fear he felt looking into a mirror late at night, the unease accompanied by a photo of Mari, his dreams filled with memories he couldn't recognize as his own. He was being haunted all along, he just didn't remember.
He did now though. His friends, Omori, Something. He must have locked away this part of himself when he fought off Omori.
It didn't matter though, it was all back now. He'd invited it back.
There was a nagging feeling in his head that he should fight this, that he shouldn't give in. He fought so hard to escape these demons of his, he knew he shouldn't go back. He knew the pain that they caused, the pain that isolating himself brought.
But… it was easier then, right? His friends, they were all always so happy. His life was simple. Mari was there. He missed her so much, and she was there. Why shouldn't he go back? Why shouldn't he disappear?
Afterall, Omori had taken care of him.
If given the choice, would you return to that time?
His wrist gave out and he collapsed onto the floor.
Welcome back to White Space.
You've been gone for a while.