A blinding light from the streetlamp stopped him in his tracks, forcing him to close his eyes for a moment. It filtered through the entrance, bathing the hallway with a brightness that contrasted with the gloom he had been submerged in.
Matlal stood there, in the threshold, motionless, feeling the light settle upon him. It had barely been a moment when a familiar voice echoed in his head, breaking the fragile silence.
"Matlal, react you fool. Where do you think you're going?" growled Identity One, with the usual cutting tone.
Matlal pressed his lips together, already used to the harshness. He answered quietly, more to himself than to the voice.
"Is that you, Identity One?"
"Who else would it be? And I repeat, what the hell are you doing?" the voice rose, impatient.
"Are you going to turn back already or do you plan on continuing with this nonsense?"
Before Matlal could reply, another voice appeared, soft and reassuring, like a whisper among the leaves.
"Mat, calm down. Don't listen to it. Everything's fine... breathe," said Identity Two, with a warmth that contrasted with the first voice's aggression.
Matlal let out a sigh, closing his eyes as the words enveloped him. Those voices were as much a part of him as the air he breathed, the result of invisible wounds that had never healed. Sometimes, he felt them as a burden; other times, as a shield.
Though they shared the same body, each identity had its own purpose and function, creating a complex web of thoughts and emotions that Matlal struggled to understand and control.
Shaking his head, he decided to ignore them for now. He walked toward his old car, his steps echoing on the street. As he opened the vehicle's door, memories assaulted him like relentless waves.
"Losing mom... it's like losing a part of myself," he murmured, staring at the windshield.
Without further delay, he started the engine and let the vehicle take him down a road he didn't want to travel. The road stretched before him, a river of asphalt that faded into the shadows of the houses. The walls on either side seemed to lean in, forming a tunnel that isolated him from the outside world.
"We shouldn't go back to that place," Identity One growled again, breaking the silence.
"You have to be strong, Mat. Don't let the pain drag you down," intervened Identity Two, with an encouraging tone.
Matlal gripped the steering wheel tightly, ignoring them. As he drove, the memories flooded him like relentless waves.
"I can't believe mom's gone..." he thought, feeling a void in his chest.
Matlal's face, marked by fatigue and melancholy, reflected the internal battle he fought. His dark, deep eyes showed an abyss of sorrow, while his thin, slightly hunched body revealed the weight of his thoughts and emotions.
With a heavy heart, Matlal ventured toward the town in his old car, its creaks echoing behind him. Every bump of the wheels against the pavement stirred up buried emotions.
The road began to vanish between the trees, the vegetation swirling like a dense shadow that embraced him in its green grasp. The landscape transformed into a canvas of nostalgia and regret.
Each meter traveled marked the rhythm of a journey Matlal never wished to begin.
After several hours of travel, Matlal began to cover the last stretch, a dirt path through the forest, which narrowed more and more until it became a single track.
But this journey was just beginning, and fate, cunning and capricious, had other plans for Matlal. The car became a toy for nature, trapped in mud and weeds, as if the hands of an invisible puppeteer held it in place.
As he advanced down the narrow forest path, the car began to shake and make strange noises. The car struggled to move over the increasingly rugged terrain, until the engine sputtered and died.
The silence was complete, broken only by the crunch of branches under the tires.
Matlal gripped the steering wheel tightly, feeling frustration boil inside him.
"Perfect... just what I needed," he grumbled, hitting the steering wheel with frustration.
He tried to start the car again, but all he managed was for the engine to let out a painful groan before dying completely.
He looked around, noticing how the vegetation closed in on him like a green, thick trap.
"We were so close," he murmured, turning the key with hope gleaming in his eyes.
"One more try, you can do it!"
He tried to accelerate, but the wheels just spun in the mud, sending splashes of dirt in every direction. The car tilted to one side, causing the wheels to sink deeper into the muddy earth.
"I told you this was a bad idea. Happy now?" replied Identity One again, with a tone full of sarcasm.
With no other option, Matlal got out of the vehicle, feeling the ground give way beneath his boots. With each step, his feet sank deeper into the slippery mud, making progress a monumental effort. The cold, damp air seeped through the cracks in his boots, sending shivers down his spine.
"Damn it, I'll have to walk!" he exclaimed in frustration, kicking a nearby rock.
"Just what I needed," he added with a long sigh, looking at the car stuck in the mud.
As he gazed at the car, he wondered if there was still a chance to get out of the predicament he found himself in.
His mind was in constant turmoil, and it didn't take long for him to hear the familiar voice of Identity One reply with a serious and accusatory tone.
"I told you we shouldn't have come, idiot." The voice sounded sharp in his mind.
"Have you already forgotten why we left, Matlal? We swore never to return."
Matlal felt his anger rising, mixing with the sadness that had accompanied him throughout the journey. His voice rose, echoing through the forest.
"I know, I know, but what do you want me to do? Not attend my own mother's funeral?" he shouted, feeling his hands tremble.
The echo of his words was lost among the trees. For a moment, the voices in his head fell silent, though their presence still lingered, like a weight at the bottom of his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.
"If you're not going to help, shut up," he murmured, more to himself than to them.
"I'm going to walk, or we'll never get there," Matlal said, determined to keep going despite the adversities.
He adjusted his jacket and began walking, leaving the car behind. The crunch of the branches under his feet blended with the whisper of the wind, as a distant echo returned him to the present with a jolt.
He found himself alone in a place he once called home, but now felt as distant and alien as a forgotten dream.