Droplets of flashbacks.

The sound of the rain drops falling onto the shed of my roof were constantly acting like little flashes. You know , the ones that come out of a camera when you take a picture. Yes those flashes. That hit your eyes and leave you blinded for minutes before you regain the proper vision again.
Every drop had a seperate flash to it. But this time not what hit my eyes blinded me but what hit my ears.

Closing my eyes and dwelling into the sound of the raindrops. Innitially slower and gradually increasing in pace, i was going places.
Places my head had locked and encaged with wires ever so tightly preventing them from dissolving in the midst of self created fantasies results of procrastination.
I felt like my mind is opening an old chest, like the one’s discovered underneath the water ages after titanic sunk, or the chests got in heir from grandparents who told you to open it on your 21st birthday and the feelings that it actually is your 21st birthday but your mind is opening it for you.

And then you hear a sound. That send shivers down your spine and cause an adrenaline rush. You feel like a little child who jumps up and down in excitement for when their present is about to open. The sound of a an old rusty lock that just clicked open.

Everything came back. Everything began to echo in my ears overlapping the sound of the raindrops. It wasnt even seconds till i could hear his voice whispering those three words that were locked and encaged by my mind as if it were protecting it. Shielding it. Acting like guards and perserving it till my last breath. For it knows, the day i lay cold with my eyes wide open, watching the angel of death decend, i would want to hear those three words again. Slower, slower and slower.

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