Divided heart

"No matter how far you run, I will find you again..." - Sin - The first thing that came to my mind right now is how lucky I am. The towering Marina apartment building challenged the sky. Its glass subtly and cleanly reflected the sunlight. Unlike what I imagined. Even though the price offered was so cheap. I thought I would get a shabby and dilapidated apartment. Turns out, it's this good. Indeed, when renting one of the flats, I only used online media without visiting or finding out beforehand. Suddenly transferred by the company because an employee resigned disrespectfully. Making me have to replace his position right now. Somewhere far in this small town. I took a deep breath while dragging a light suitcase containing all my belongings - if it can be called that - containing only a few sets of clothes and personal hygiene items. I'm not what you think, poor. No, I'm quite enough for a single person. "You're Loki...?" A middle-aged woman wearing a red house dress greeted me while helping to open the front door. Maybe she had been waiting for me and thought the large brown suitcase was heavy. I nodded and smiled in response. "Come on, let me take you there." The plump hand tried to help me with my suitcase before I politely refused and carried it myself. “With Mrs…?” I asked. “Oh my goodness, I forgot to introduce myself. Just call me Mrs. Marry. I’m so happy because it’s been a long time since anyone rented flat number 20.” Mrs. Marry slapped her forehead while chuckling happily. “Ah…” I replied simply, not wanting to hear Mrs. Marry’s continued chatter. I’ve never been interested in talkative people. “Come here, the lift’s been broken for a long time.” The woman chuckled again without embarrassment. She directed me to the corridor on the right. “Because the repair costs are very expensive, it hasn’t been fixed yet. You know… the rent here is also very cheap.” I nodded while counting the missing teeth in Mrs. Marry’s gaping mouth. “Here are the stairs, your room is on the third floor.” The middle-aged woman pointed to the old stairs in front of us. My whole body froze instantly, my steps stopped, and my lips spontaneously whispered, “Fifty-seven steps… fifty-seven… fifty-seven…” “Haa… what…?” Mrs. Marry’s voice was faint. My gaze fell on the blackened wooden floor, the crack on the fifth step, and a faded brass-colored poster about daily catering, managed by the building owner, on the left wall. Every hair on my body stood on end, and my breath hitched. A familiar feeling flooded my mind, pulling me into the shadowy realm; laughter, anger, tears—suddenly my senses grasped it all. "Loki... Loki...?" A violent shake to my shoulder brought me back to reality. I took a deep breath and coughed violently. "Hey... Loki... are you alright? Goodness, what's wrong with you?" Mrs. Marry patted my back with such force that I almost spat out blood. Was she trying to help or kill me? "That's enough, ma'am," I said with difficulty, pushing away her plump hand. "You should rest; you look exhausted." Mrs. Marry's brow furrowed in worry. "It's alright, I'll rest in my room. Let's continue," I requested, without waiting for her reply. I immediately climbed the stairs, the creak of the wooden stairs making my head spin. I was really dizzy. What's wrong with me? Clearly, my physical condition was perfectly fine before entering Marina's apartment. "Are you alright? Should I make you some ginger tea?" The woman with the high bun gripped my arm tightly, intending to support my weight. I weakly shook my head, quite disturbed by her kindness. Every step I took made my heart beat faster. Silently, I counted the number of stairs. Fifty-seven exactly. No less and no more. How is that possible? This is the first time a twenty-three-year-old named Loki Fuller has set foot in this apartment. How could I know the exact number of stairs? This is crazy... "This is your room." Mrs. Marry guided me while my mind was speculating. Once again, memories of someone or something hit me hard. "There's a chair outside this room, right across the door. Where is that chair?" My head reflexively turned to the plump woman. I don't know what Mrs. Marry saw in my expression, but it was clearly not admiration or happiness, but horror. Her eyes widened and her lips opened and closed like a fish gasping for air on land. "That chair was moved earlier," Mrs. Marry answered softly. There was a brief pause before she continued. "Have you ever lived here before?" "No," I replied firmly. "This is the first time... the first time... the first time... the first time..." My mind screamed the phrase repeatedly. But why did everything feel so familiar? "So... do you have a sixth sense? Can you see invisible creatures?" she asked fearfully. I almost burst out laughing at this woman's thoughts. But a moment later, I fell silent, thinking it made sense too. If not for that, where did all these memories come from? "Has anything strange happened here before?" I asked curiously. Mrs. Marry was surprised and nervously laughed. "Who said that? Nothing happened, I just felt strange. You seem to already know this place. Here's your key. If you want to order catering, you can contact the number on the stairs. Usually, bachelors don't cook, right? I'll go now." Quickly, Mrs. Marry placed the key in my hand and hurried away. I took a deep breath, narrowed my eyes for a moment before inserting the key and preparing for the worst. My eyes scanned the room: a single bed, a single-door wooden wardrobe, next to it a small table attached to the wall; a television with a bracket as a support. A very very mini kitchen set measuring 200 cm and a glass door with open curtains, revealing a round balcony. Like magnets with opposite poles, my feet moved towards the balcony, without my brain's command. There I stood, motionless, in a somewhat awkward position, hypnotized by the swaying trees outside, moving left and right, accompanied by the gentle breeze of the morning. I realized my thin fingers were trembling violently as I slowly opened the glass door, as if it knew what I would face next. The wind blew as the door slid open, ruffling my black hair. However much I wanted to step forward this time, my legs were held back, unable to move as if my shadow was gripping them tightly. Then something wet touched my cheek and flowed down to my chin and fell to the floor. Starting from a single drop and continuing to tens of wet drops. I thought the roof was leaking. But I was wrong; it wasn't the roof leaking. No... but me, my eyes were crying now. Why...?