He sat quietly in his chair in front of his
desk. He was busy. He worked at home. Nobody knew what he did. Nobody knew who
he really was. It was only their assumption that this figure was even a “he”.
One thing they knew was that he always had groceries waiting for him in front
of his doorstep every morning. They never saw his face either, but a silhouette
at night when the lights were on. There were too many things his neighbors
wanted to know about him but he remained as a mystery. His non existence made
him famous in the area. People wanted to see who his person really was, but that
was impossible. He’d never left his spot.
It
had been almost ten years since he left his home. He wasn’t a prisoner and he was
never forced. He was happy. He was happy because the house made him feel like
he was a part of something, and he never wanted to lose that feeling after what
he had experienced in the past.
There was nothing wrong with the
relationship he had with his mother. They weren’t the most loving of the kind,
but they loved each other enough. At least he thought they did. The last time
he saw his mother was a sunny day. Sunny days are supposed to represent happiness,
or it gives the setting for a start to a normal day. That particular sunny day
wasn’t happy or normal. It was a day of confusion and chaos.
He and his mother went for a walk in the park.
He was 10, and she was a single mother. That day, she looked distracted and her
grip felt stronger to his hand than usual. After few minutes of walking in silence,
she told him to sit on the nearby bench and wait for her until she came back.
Without a second thought, he innocently sat down as his mother briskly walked
away. He stared at her back as she made her way to her mysterious destination.
Her shoulders were slumped and she looked skinnier than he had remembered. Very
little did he know at the time that he was the cause of the change in her
figure. He thought about her some more, and he stared down at the shadow of the
bench next to his feet. His mind drifted off to another subject. It drifted and
drifted until he started day dreaming. A few minutes later, when he snapped back
into reality, he realized that his mother had been gone for quite some time. No
big deal he thought, and so he waited. He waited until the shadow of the bench
was well past his feet. Maybe she’s running a little late he thought, but as
time ticked on, he became more puzzled. Where was she? The fatigued back of his
mother was the last thing he saw of her, and from that day, he never belonged
to anyone.
His daily routine started off with check his
front door step for his grocery bags. Since he never went outside, he had his
things delivered. You could get all sorts of things delivered these days. He
was thankful for that. After bringing his groceries in the house, he then went
to his computer and started on his job. He had a heavy workload, but the job
gave him the house, so he had no complaints. When he got a fair amount of his
work done, he went to the kitchen to eat his breakfast. The dining table was
big. Big enough for a middle sized family. He had been part of a family before,
quite a few of them too. In the end, the once thing they had in common was that
they left him in the end.
After he was abandoned by his mother, he was
put into care with a few foster families. His experience with his mother left
him to become paranoid about being left alone. His foster family eventually
grew tired of his constant need for attention. As even foster families left
him, his paranoia grew worse, and he gradually lost trust in others. He thought
of humans as cruel animals that were incapable of feeling sympathy for others.
He distanced himself from the rest of the world and decided to stand alone in
his own.
That was the start to his attachment to the
house. His house would never walk away from him. The house will always belong
to him as long as he belonged to it. You are never to trust other people he
thought. The most he did with trusting others was with that man who delivered
his groceries. He sometimes worried that he might have to starve to death if
the delivery man decided not to come. He recalled the time during the blizzard
last year when his groceries weren’t at his doorstep for almost a week. Even
the weather was hard to trust.
He wasn’t sure what his opinion was, on
catching people starting at his house. He knew that he was talked about. He knew
it because every time someone walked past his house, they either tried to look
into his window, or whispered something to their friend. He even found little
notes in his grocery bag asking him questions about his lifestyle. Some of them
asked if he can let them in sometimes. It became one of his hobbies to read
these short notes. Of course he never even considered meeting the people who
wrote these notes. However these notes managed to change his opinion about
other people. Maybe some people do care he thought. It didn’t make him want to
meet them however, as he was still scared of possible rejection. He thought
that he was too good for the imperfect world to have a piece of him, but in
reality, he was scared that he would be rejected along with his own
imperfections. Of course these thoughts stayed within the walls of the house. .