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It was a cloudy day where the gothic, Victorian styled apartment stood still. It was designed as a six-storied house which looked like a bottle of wine and the triangular ceiling that were made of wood. The antique apartment was more of a haunted house than an apartment. Beside the house, there were yellow grasses that felt abandoned. The two trees were thin but the leaves at the top were thick and the barks were burning black.

The homerun truck slowly stopped at the house. The only man who hopped out from the car was Nafi. He was thin, nerdy looking and had round spectacles that had black frame. He and the homerun people took all the belongings plus the furniture to the one storied of the house. Inside the house, it had staircase that were at the center of the house and it was designed to be round while the doors were in the middle of the staircase.

Nafi entered the first storied house and saw that there were antique rocking chair and tables that were covered with white clothes. He was exploring the bookshelves as well with the collection of the classics as well as the post-modern books till 2007s. They looked beautiful at the same time. He was exploring the big antique rooms. All of them looked like Victorian era or else, a haunted house.

In the certain time, an old man hopped into the door.

"Well, young man, pleasant to see you in this house" said the old man.

"Mr. Mansoor, how have you been?" asked Nafi.

"I am good. How do you like this house?" said Mr. Mansoor, the old man.

"It's beautiful but I need to ask you something. Who were the last tenants?" asked Nafi.

"A rich family used to live there but as they shifted abroad, it was abandoned for at least ten years. They might be the owners of the house but they left it to us because one of the family members of the house passed away in an accident which triggered the memories of the owners. Therefore, they shifted abroad, leaving the tenants who are leading a lonely life. Otherwise, it was the friendly place to hangout" said Mr. Mansoor.

"Well, that's tragic!" said Nafi.

"I understand, as the house might have looked a bit lonely. But as you are a journalist, I would like you to explore. I hope, it would inspire you to write an article about us" said Mr. Mansoor.

"I hope so" said Nafi.

Therefore, he left the scene. Nafi felt curious about the house, nearer than usual. What he was reminded: it was the past.

On the contrast, Nafi had a tragedy of his own. May be it was not a tragedy but was not happy with himself. The house that he shifted for a certain reason. It was not because of seeing the house in the advertisements or social media, but it was the house beside the office where he used to see it across the window during the boring time. From far, the house looked cloudy, mysterious and silent but from near, it was more than just a gothic house.

He looked at the gothic stairs where the doors stood in the middle. Unfortunately, none of the tenants goes out of their flats. It looked lonely and the rooftop was surrounded with the spider's web plus dirt. If he explores more on the mansion-like apartment, it would be endless.

Furthermore, he entered the room again where a typewriter was kept in the old-fashioned table. He looked surprised due to its uniqueness such as that it was more of a printer than a typewriter. On which means that it was mixed with Bengali and Chinese alphabets as well as English. It was kind of a rare typewriter to have multilingual alphabets.

The enormous windows were covered with white curtains but the reflection of sunlight even breaks the bound to the curtain. On which means, even in the dark, there is light.

Suddenly, a phone vibrated from his pocket. He saw an unknown number. When he picked up, he felt a familiar voice on the phone. A girly voice which was immature.

"Tareefa, why the hell have you called me for?" asked Nafi angrily.

"This is the second time that I am breaking up with you" said Tareefa.

"We broke up yesterday. Why do you have to say that again?" said Nafi.

"Because, you cannot even have an afford to take me to Bandarban..." said Tareefa.

Tareefa's talkative nature disturbed Nafi that he angrily cut off the phone and blocked her number twice. To explore his past, it was a bit complicated but yes, it might be simple to describe its merits. Past was more, for him, was dreadful but what about his new neighbors?

He was once a journalist of a renowned newspaper 'M.A.D Times' which means Media And Determination. On the contrary, the office was boring on which meant, no relaxation, no fun within work and everyday news articles that people never reads, even online. Otherwise, the office was decorative: green wallpapers, separate different cabins and such environment that workers hardly even know each other. To that reason, someone like Nafi would not adjust the office environment. Whenever he wanted to speak to the other colleagues for cooperation, they avoid him most of the times, despite the fact that he was a journalist. The only plus point he used to get was the handsome amount of salary.

While at the cabin window, he used to look at the house because even the darkness within the bright colors can bring you to the realistic world. The irony was, Nafi used to like it there.

After the series of assignments with hard work, he used to go to restaurants with his girlfriend, Tareefa. Deluded to his reality, she was a gold digger. Whenever he becomes successful on events or he talks about his rich uncles, she used to get more fascinated about it more than the boring boss and the office.

She always used to think Nafi as her 'prince charming who will rescue from her dreaded parents' than her own bratty behavior which she never understood. Her description was more of a face of a chubby pig, excuse my language, but I would hate to give her more description than that. She was the only daughter of a rich businessman. On the restaurant, she was ordering a bunch of food that even his pocket money could not afford to do. Until, the waiter showed the bill, he was taking out the credit card. After few minutes the waiter arrived unpleasantly.

"Sir, you do not have enough amount to give out the bill" said the waiter.

While Nafi was about to speak, Tareefa interrupted.

"Where is the cash! You don't have an afford to pay the bills! You are not my boyfriend! You are a cheater! Liar! And fraud!" screamed Tareefa overreacting. "Break-up, break-up, break-up!"

While Tareefa was overreacting, Nafi just ran away and reached his house with a tempo, but watching his uncle bedridden was a heartbreaking part. His previous house was more of a modern-styled mansion-like apartment than the other mansions.

"Son, come here" said his uncle who was waving by offering him to come closer to him. "Whatever you do, never step back into your knees, because we all have an Achilles heel but to make it strong, you have to help one at first, then help others"

It was too late for Nafi to ask questions because the last breathe never leave a chance to speak on as per his uncle. According to the doctors, he died of old-age complications on which he did not expect.

Since then, he was depressed and tired of his life that he could not work properly. Whenever he used to work, he was on some ways, unfocused. His boss frequently noticed the problem. He was so desperate that he rushed near him.

"What's wrong?" asked his boss.

"I am tired of life" said Nafi.

"I think, you need a break" said his boss.

"I guess so sir" said Nafi.

"Then, you are fired for 6 months. By the time, I am giving you the advanced three month salary. Which reminds me that I have to spend a lot of quality time with my family" said his boss.

Since then, he shifted to the gothic apartment, despite his old home had full of memories.

At the present, the sunset arrived on the scene, while Nafi was breathing for a quiet environment. On the back of the window, there was a garden that was huge in space, decorated with flowers and clean plants. The cold breeze were coming through the garden that he walked through it.

Until, he saw a young man on the window who was putting a rope on the fan with his laptop screen which was switched on. Nafi saw that with anxiety and rushed through the stairs of the second floor.

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