Like a suffering mosquito, the fan buzzed in the ceiling corner.
Outside I could hear the sound of a driving car.
My room was quiet and still, lit only by the faint blue light from my phone. I lay on my back with my left arm resting across my forehead as if I was trying to block the outside world. I wasn't.
I was just existing.
The manga I was reading had the same panel open for minutes. It was a character mid-scream. I didn't know what was going on in the plot. I didn't really care.
My muscle memory made me scroll anyway.
Then I stopped. Scrolled back up. Reread the panel. I still didn't care.
I stared at the ceiling. The ceiling stared back.
It wasn't like I was sad. Sadness was like a weather. I felt something more similar to a climate, something permanent. Gray skies that had nothing to say.
When I tried to explain this to people (not that I often did) I'd usually say that it's like brushing your teeth everyday, knowing you'll eventually die with them clean. It was like a pointless routine, but still something you'd do everyday, because not doing it would mean you've given up. And I haven't. Not yet.
I was neither suicidal nor dramatic. I was just self aware. Too self aware.
...
I randomly thought about the word "deja vu". I think it's french. It means "already seen". I've always thought it was a stupid word. It was like calling drowning "already wet"
...
There was a small buzz. Not from the fan, but from my brain.
It was a small flicker behind my eyes. It felt like a skipped heartbeat inside my head.
I blinked.
Suddenly it felt like I knew this moment. I didn't remember it. I knew it.
The weight of my blanket, the dead silence. The feeling of my phone slipping between my fingers. My own thought that was about to come-
"I've done this before."
It was my own voice inside my head before I even thought it.
It was not like a memory, it was rather like I was reading a line from a script.
I sat up.
My heart didn't race, neither did my hands shake. It wasn't fear I felt, it was wonder. It was wrongness.
And then it passed.
Gone.
It was like waking up in the middle of class when your head hit the desk, that type of disoriented, nauseous second when your mind is in the middle of two places.
I rubbed my eyes. Then I laughed quietly for myself. The type of laugh that no one hears but it still makes your chest twitch.
"What the fuck" I whispered to myself.
...
I didn't believe in anything such as fate, god or ghosts. But this almost felt too real.
"Hey, Sun" I yelled, not knowing if he was even home.
"What?" The gravelly, half asleep voice came from the hallway.
"Do you ever get déjà vu?"
He yawned, "Yea, that means you're living the same day twice."
"Isn't that just every day?"
"Go to sleep Star."
"Okay, whatever…"