Chapter 83: Don’t you think he really ran mad?

Chapter 83: Don’t you think he really ran mad? I posted the post and waited anxiously for a response, biting my thumb and continuously shaking my legs before finally getting the first comment. ’There’s a book like that?’ ’Wow, I’d definitely love to read it. Let me know if you find the name.’ ’I’ve never heard of it, but I would love to read it. So let us know if you find the name of it.’ As I read the responses, the core in my body shook, and my phone slipped from my hand. They all said they hadn’t heard of it? I could feel my body trembling in confusion and fear. They would like to read it? But I was sure these were the same people who had dragged the characters of the novel with me. They clearly knew of the characters... Right? Or was I mistaken? Maybe I had forgotten about the name? But I didn’t ask for the name. I simply asked if anyone knew of the content, but they all seemed to genuinely not know. So... How did I know of the world in that novel if there was never a book to begin with? Or could it be that I... I gulped... I never read the novel to begin with, and I actually lived in that world from the beginning? I slapped my face hard to bring me back to reality. That was such a ridiculous thought. To think I had such a thought. I lived in that world from the beginning? There was no way. The situation was just starting to get to my head, and I felt like I was going crazy with these absurd thoughts. I needed answers. I carried my body up, stared at the mess I had made with my treasured books, and shook my head. Once all this was sorted out, I would apologize to my babies one by one. I made my way out, and as I walked out with my horrid expression of black eyes and pale face, I saw two of my neighbors. A middle aged woman and her daughter, and they were whispering in the corner. They noticed me coming out, but I didn’t care about what they were up to. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked past, dragging my feet across the floor with my back slouched. As I walked past them, I heard the daughter say in whispers, "Just look at him. Don’t you think he really ran mad?" Her comment made me flinch a bit, but I tried to ignore it and keep walking. "Goodness, I don’t know what young people do these days, but doesn’t he feel ashamed of disturbing the neighbors with that horrifying scream?" "Mother, he must think he’s the main character of a movie or something. If he had kept that up, I’d have definitely called the police." "Pwa, so shameless," They kept talking and I kept ignoring, acting like I didn’t hear anything. Their voices were too loud to be considered whispers, but too low to be considered a real conversation. They were just gossiping, that mother and daughter. It was as if they wanted me to hear by all means. They wanted me to hear how disturbing my actions were and how others perceived me. I already knew, so they didn’t have to remind me. Up until this moment, I had hardly interacted with my neighbors. I kept to my quiet life and my quiet job. The only people I interacted with were my colleagues at work, but it always ended there, unless I suddenly got dragged to a drinking party. That was how I lived my life. And yet... None of it felt like mine anymore. None of it felt real. Everything felt like a lie. A delusion I had fed my mind with. A simple, quiet life? More like a lonely life. I... Don’t know what’s real or fake anymore in this world. I don’t even know how long I have existed in this ’my’ world. If I just popped up out of nowhere or if I began to imagine this as my life, and voilà, it became reality. And this was the world pushing me out and telling me that my soul never belonged here to begin with. I should go back to my actual world. Or maybe... This was all just a dream. I stood on a small bridge, watching the stream underneath, and stared at my reflection from the moon. It was a full moon day, and everything seemed so beautiful. I looked up and took a look at the park that was brightly illuminated by the fireflies. ’Say, would there be a garden of fireflies that one could visit at night since there was a garden of butterflies?’ I wondered, and the thought struck me. I looked away and back at the stream. I was thinking of it again. I left there and continued walking, going where my feet took me. Where was I going? I don’t know, but it was a route I had never taken before. I kept walking, dragging my feet, and even stumbled a few times. I stumbled and fell on my knees, my hands scraped on the floor, and I asked myself, ’What am I doing?’ I had no answer to that question and simply cried, wetting the soil with my salty tears. I hated pain more than anything. I hated getting hurt or getting hit because they only caused me pain. I always tried to avoid anything that would cause me pain, but this time... I didn’t need to do anything before I felt an immense amount of pain that had me bawling my eyes out and beating my chest. It hurts more than one could think. It hurts like a dozen needles were being pricked deep into my skin. It hurts like someone used a boulder and it fell directly on my heart, and my blood vessels were the things holding on to my heart to prevent it from falling into the pit of my belly. It... Hurts so much. I looked up with my teary eyes. I had climbed the hill just to get here. A place I had never been before. It was a traditional home with a wooden door for an outside gate, and beside it was a bunch of feathers that seemed rather ominous. But whatever... My spirit led me here, so I would just go in. I raised my hand, about to knock on the door, when it opened and revealed the shaman. She looked just like I remembered her. Short with a stick in hand, a red and white flowing robe with spiritual motifs printed on it, and the veil covering most of her face and leaving just her eyes. Her eyes were... As clear as I remember them. "Welcome," she said, giving way for me to walk through. "I’ve been expecting you." I don’t know if this was a good idea, but I couldn’t think of anything else. My body wouldn’t go anywhere else either. So, I thought it was best to come to the one place that might have the answers I was looking for. (My readers, don’t hesitate to read Authors thoughts, okay. You never know, there might be a secret or open message there just for you)