There's rustling on the roof, but that's a regular occurrence. My neighbors must be awake. I really don't want to get up yet, though I have no idea how long I've been here. With each passing day it seems to get more and more difficult to get up, so I guess I'll just lie here rotting. Maybe I shouldn't spend so much time in bed and actually get up and clean. My plants are probably suffering seeing as I haven't tended to them in a few days. I can't even bring myself to sit up. I feel like I'm dying, but maybe I'm just being dramatic.
I guess now it's time to haul this bag of bones out of bed. I'm so tired I don't even remember what year it is. That's fine though, time is a manmade construct anyways. Reaching up, I press on the wood above. I've lived here for a while, so it's not exactly strong wood. Repairing it would be the sensible thing to do. However, given the fact that I can't even bring myself to get up, I don't think I'm going to be starting home improvement projects any time soon. My morning stretch was always my favorite part of waking up, but this one was apparently too good of a stretch because something cracked. I think it was the wood, but who knows.
My mouth is insanely dry when I wake up, so I crawl out to go get water. It's hot and heavy outside, and not in the sexy way. It's still dark, but the humidity is suffocating. The pond nearby wasn't the best water but it'll do. It kind of tastes like algae and fish but it's better than nothing. I go drink from the pond, scooping the water with my hands.
It's time to go back home and start pulling weeds outside. Oh no.. I see my neighbor out of the corner of my eye. I think she sees me too. She's so annoying, going on and on about her "golden years". Let me tell you, she was never golden. This crusty old hag probably came out of the womb like this. Her shrill voice pierced through the early morning quiet, making me wince. I fake a smile and listen to her ramble about her past.
I would move, but I'm a little stuck here. I've lived here for ages now. Once I could tune her out, I continued with my gardening. My nameplate was filthy and needed to be cleaned desperately. I grab my wet rag, which reeks of mildew, and start scrubbing the moss and dirt off. I have to clean up my area periodically just to keep everything looking nice. Some people in the neighborhood do not do the same. Their overgrown weeds are intruding on my yard, and the cracks in their facade are an eyesore for passersby.
Living like this isn't bad though, it has its perks. You learn a few things about people after having lived here for so long. I've noticed that children don't leave their house as much. They used to be running around outside all the time, and I could hear them laughing even from under the dirt. In the fall I could feel them scurrying around over us, periodically screaming and then giggling again. The kids used to love telling stories in our neighborhood at night. If I listened close I could hear them. Some of their stories were true, but most weren't.
There are a few things that have been introduced to society too. When I was young, we didn't have engines. Well, we did, just not nearly as advanced as they are now. The cars are much faster nowadays than when I was a kid. I've heard chatter about something called social media. It sounds really interesting, and I'm a little sad that I didn't get to experience that. So much is different now, but I will never get sick of watching people grow and evolve. This era took some time to get used to though. I've seen it all, and been through it all. I was old when the pyramids were young. I've been through countless wars, but the Civil War was the most intriguing to me. One country being so torn apart was truly a sight to be seen. The World Wars were the worst of it. It's baffling how this place can be filled with so much hate, so much evil going around. Good people did the worst things; everyone abandoned their morals.
There have been some good things though. One of my favorite parts about life is watching architecture change with the people. I remember when schools and churches were just one room. There were no cities, only small towns. I liked it when everybody knew everybody. It felt closer then, like I really knew people. Now everything has gotten so populated, it's difficult to operate in this environment.
Another thing that changed were basements. That was a big one that I noticed. There used to be people down at my level, but they have since vanished. Maybe they didn't like the cold and dark. Maybe they, like flowers, preferred the sunlight. Maybe something scared them off. Basements were good for people, they protected them from the weather. We had rather frequent tornadoes here, more so than other areas. Other places get them too, and they have basements and storm shelters to protect them. Why don't these people have that? Maybe they would rather face the fury of the sky than what lies beneath the clay.
It's me. I am what lies beneath the clay. They would rather risk death than have to be near this kind of decay. They say dead men tell no tales, yet here I am.
