The world was deafeningly silent as he sat on the roof of his apartment building. His cigarette dug into the corroding building, overrun by vines and greenery. Many neon signs illuminated the city that had lost the war with nature, colours shining off shattered windows and bouncing off buildings. A sigh escaped him as he stepped closer to the edge of the building. 26th story up. He shuffled closer and closer until the tips of his toes were hanging off the edge. One step and it would all be over. Not really. This pain would carry into the pure void of death. Though it would all be worth it if he got even just a single second glance at her. One more glance and he could die happy, compliant to eternal suffering. One step and then the wind started smashing into his skin, leaving it reddened and cold. Nature overran this city and supposedly valued its occupants. Not allowing the slightest of unnatural death to occur within its walls, also not allowing its occupants to leave. As he was about to reach impact, imagining the grotesque picture of his bones shattered, his organs displaced and his skull cracked open, exposing his pulsating brain, the earthy ground below split open and engulfed him. Almost as if travelling back in time, he was now stood back on top of the roof. Another sigh escaped him as he stood, staring off into the orange tinted sky.
“I could change my name, my appearance, or my mind, but you would still find me and I would still be stuck here. You are everywhere; in the shadows, in the light, in the stars, in the sky, in my mind. I cannot escape you. I am dying to hear your voice, to smell your fragrance, to see your beauty and to hold your hand but I as well am dying to get you out of my mind.” he muttered as he slowly turned to descend back into his apartment.
As he entered his apartment, a god awful stench combed his nostrils. The smell of aged cigarette smoke and leftovers from last nights’ tea, creating a harmony of odious death. Empty cans of whatever booze could be sourced plagued any and every surface it could find and many stacked magazines, mainly consisting of naked men and women plastered across the front, found refuge on the coffee table. A sour look spread across his face as he groaned, moving towards the overflowing bin bags that had still to be thrown out. He had promised her that he would get better, start taking care of himself. That didn’t last long after her untimely disappearance. Yes, many had gone missing after this bumfuckery of an accident. A sorry excuse of an apocalyptic event, only instead of zombies, it is nature itself. Though, he hadn’t expected her, the only one he cared about, to vanish along with the thousands of others. Where they went, he didn’t know nor did he know if any of them still had a pulse, a beating heart, and it was eating him alive. And he would rather die than be eaten from the inside out, starting at his toes, ending at his heart - prolonging his suffering out of greedy karma.
The fridge flung open and somehow the odour got even worse, flooding his nose unannounced, stinging his skin. He pulled out a microwave meal that he had stolen a couple of days prior; macaroni and cheese, though the pasta looked stale and the cheese looked like plastic, inedible. The click of the microwave, then followed by the muffled hum that indicated that the microwave had lived another day, filled the room. He bent down to look at the meal through the small window. It spun rather sluggishly despite being mechanical and it was painful to watch. The ding bounced off the walls as he removed the small tray from the microwave and sat down on the sofa. Next to him sat more alcohol and the empty outline of her and the lingering bleakness of life itself that was sewn with thread to her soul, the string the only thing connecting them and the only thing indicating her existence. A forkful of the cheesy abomination was shoved into his mouth, filling a void within him only to be swallowed seconds later, reopening the empty spot. Shutting his eyes from ignorance, he fell asleep on the sofa next to the idea of her. It was tearing him apart.
The next afternoon, he awoke to the macaroni cheese spilled across the floor, reaching into the fibres of the carpet, leaving its hideous yellow tinge to subside over time. Swiftly, he got up and left his apartment, wanting to escape the sight of the macaroni festering into the already foul-looking carpet. The deformed city stood tall, towering over him as scents of fresh air mixed with hints of gasoline lingered in the blisteringly hot morning. The cracks in the road were uncomfortably prominent under his feet, even through the soles of his shoes; the lack of road stabbing into his soles but he still forces himself to walk on towards his unknown destination.
He continued walking until he was outside a battered building, nearly fully destroyed by debris. The only sign of life being the handmade illuminated sign that spells Shop here! With an arrow pointing towards the red door that was surprisingly spotless in contrast to the destruction sitting just outside. He walked up the steps which looked as if they may give out and reached out towards the gold handle that accompanies the red door. First thing he was met with upon entering the door was a certain aroma. Not a very pleasant one, yet not very unpleasant either. It smelt of everything and nothing. Black and white mixed together in a marble effect. Upon observation, a tall standing mirror was spotted. He was aligned in the middle and almost as if in stop motion animation, a blackness ate up the inconsequential surroundings, leaving him in a state of surrealism. The blackness called to him, he could hear it whispering to him to join it. Join the void and become nothing. Resist. His gaze snapped away from the mirror to be met with a sullen, old man. They locked eyes before the man turned away and grumbled something incoherently. He walked off, out of the view of the old man, to find something. To find anything that could take his mind away from the burning gaze of the old man that etched its way into his brain. In his search, he found an old, sooty dresser. One of the drawers cracked open to reveal an aged letter. Glancing from left to right, checking that the old man could not see, he slipped the letter into his pocket and shoved the drawer to the dresser back to its original resting state. He passed the old man again, flashing him a smile and a wave before exiting the small shop.
Once he left the shop, he passed the remains of the city square where a preacher was stationed on top of the rubble. She had a very boisterous voice and piercing eyes of which the colour could not be determined from where he was situated. One thing he could say though, was that she was absolutely god-like with her beauty. She could possibly even rival his ex-girlfriends beauty. Lewd thoughts plagued his already tainted mind as he stared at her with such stupidity.
“Go home. Forget her,” a voice echoed. He looked around to find the source of the voice but the rest of the small crowd seemed unbothered and oblivious to the sound. “Go home.” the voice spoke again, placing emphasis on each word.