Page 130 of My Ruthless Neighbor

I don’t bother taking my phone with me. I want some fucking peace and quiet.

As soon as I set foot out, the floor goes dark.

I look over my shoulder and frown when I see my office lights are out too.

That’s not possible. I spent a fortune on building a network that would prevent power outage.

Our work entirely relies on electricity as most of the aspects of our work is virtual. We can’t risk power failure.

This can’t do. I want to keep my mind off things. For that I need to work. How the hell am I supposed to work without electricity?

I reach inside the pocket for my phone then remember I left it inside the office.

All of this is awfully similar to the nightmare I had last night.

Dragging in a sharp intake of air, I force myself to calm down.

When I hear a shuffling of footsteps, it becomes hard to differentiate between the nightmare and reality.

This can’t be happening.

It is purgatory, living the terrors of losing Amy again and again.

This is my imagination. It’s all in my head. There’s no one in the building except me.

I am about to go back to my office to get my phone when I hear the thudding of the footsteps.

I snap my head in that direction and find a figure clad in white turning a hallway.

For a moment, I stand there, unmoving. Disbelief makes me blink twice to ensure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me.

Like the nightmare, my feet begin to carry me forward, willing me to follow the figure I just saw.

I manage to continue walking without stumbling in the darkness.

When I reach the cubicles, the lights come back on, making me grimace at the sudden brightness.

“Hello?” I call out. The lights that were back on a second ago are gone again.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see someone running but when I turn to look, there’s no one.

I am about to check that way when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I spin on my heel and find myself alone.

I take a few steps back, my fingers massaging my temples. What is happening?

Am I dreaming again? Have I gone crazy?

I’ve never had such experience in waking life. This was an unknown territory.

Maybe this is the conclusion I deserve. If I am losing my mind, then this might be the chosen end of my miserable existence.

If this is a penance for my deeds, I will gladly accept.

Closing my eyes, I exhale. “I’m sorry.”

Amy’s lifeless eyes flash before my eyes. I’m reliving the pain again, and like always, I’m sickened by being in my own skin.

Once the image starts projecting in my head, it doesn’t stop. It forces me to go through the agony again, amplifying the guilt that is eating me alive.

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