"Not breathing, heart unmoving, diseased. There were no witnesses, but judging by the blood analysis and state of decomposition of his skin he died about 24 to 26 hours ago." The words of the doctor were cold, that spirit eager to save lives and help people had long been extinguished. The morgue was a cruel place, the disillusion of being continuously reminded of the weight of death down your shoulders isn't something most people can handle, but is something you may be able to get accustomed to. The job required a pragmatic and detached attitude and he was just that, a shell of his past self. Having finished writing down the report, he gave one last glance at the body in front of him, his face tried to convey in vain the emotion of sorrow and deception for that empty carcass. "Another youth." He murmured for himself, before covering the body in a black impassive bag. Thin steel made walls all around, the compartment closed with an echoing metallic sound just before silence engulfed everything again. The corpse's whitish and lifeless eyes stared passively at the ceiling, thinking about nothing in particular. Its skin's color approaching now a pale shade of brown and grey. Everything seemed so calm, so peaceful. No one would really have been bothered if it ended like this. However, It seemed as if fate flowed in another direction, and so once the door leading to the room opened, the world crumbled. The expressions of those people that had accompanied him through all his life stared at his body like this was some nightmare, unaccepting, denying what their eyes were perfectly capable of seeing. Their voices could be heard outside, cries, sobs, and a shout of anguish from his mother every once in a while. One sounded young and muffled, a teenage girl, his sister. Ragged breathing, hyperventilating, his brother. An adult, kneeling paralyzed on the floor, his father. The corpse's eyes didn't budge though, they didn't move, they remained calmly staring at those fluorescent lights in the ceiling, without thinking too much. Accepting the fact that this was somehow destined to happen. Sorry... The rumble of a nearby thunderstorm echoed through the cloudy sky, it had been raining for the last couple of days nonstop. Not what you'd expect in a day of summer, but it did rise up to the occasion. The drums of rain bathed the scene, with the same sounds, cries, sorrow, remorse, deceit, and rage. The black-suited people didn't move, their eyes hung low and their spirits faded away in that field. Further and further away, all their voices kept slipping away from my ears. Each second, dimmer, quieter, fainter. Gone. When you are dead time continues flowing, days keep passing, and the sun rises and sets like it always has. Flowers will pile up at your grave, nature won't mourn your death and neither will most people, while the ones who do will eventually forget about you, maybe revisiting the dissolving fragments of your existence a couple of times over the years, until you fall into that void, forever. I had once wanted to live without regrets. At the end of the day, though, I realized it was just another hollow dream of mine. In the end, we all regret something. If I had fought harder, studied harder, pushed harder, to make the people around me proud. If I hadn't lost to the comfort, living and embodying mediocrity. If I had convinced my brother to start that business together. If I had helped my father with the burden of carrying the whole family. If I had been nicer to my mother and sister. If I had spent more time with my grandparents before they died. At the end of the day, I'm powerless to change the past. Then why? I should be hollow, empty, and defeated. Why do I feel this spark in my heart? Why on earth is that demon smiling? Let regret fuel your heart, let pain curse your soul, callous your mind. For once, from now onwards... You are not powerless anymore. |Bump| |Bump| |Bump| |Bump Bump| |Bump Bump| |Bump Bump| |Bump Bump| |Bump Bump| You can't escape hell anymore. Finally. My hand reaches the surface of the seemingly unending earth, my nails grab onto the soil with the ferocity of a starving tiger. I struggle to unbury the rest of my body from the depths of the ground. The exhaustion is palpable in my pained expression, half-covered in the dirt, as I try opening my eyes, however, the filth and dirt block me from seeing anything. | Ghtjt!! | I gasped in shock at the need for air. My lungs, mouth, and throat were all dry, and a splitting headache threatens to send me back to wherever I just crawled from. I try relaxing to prevent myself from fainting, but dark thoughts are the only thing that comes to my mind. I keep coughing for what seems like an eternity before my breathing pace settles. The pain and anguish from almost choking are replaced by the dull cold feeling in my body I notice my arms and legs won't stop shaking and my vision is in a blur. Still, I can manage to grasp my immediate surroundings. "What is this." My eyes shift all around, trying to get a clue of my location, alas everything is too dark. The veil of night makes it impossible to come to grab onto anything. There is only one certainty. I'm alone. No moon in the sky, no breeze, just warm dry stationary air, and no sounds whatsoever. My instincts scream that something is wrong and I can't refute that logic. My anxiety and headache pump up my adrenaline and stress in a perfect concoction to keep me in a state close to paralysis. My stiff cold muscles and weak articulations decide to contract in a defensive position, ready for whatever is coming. Nothing does. Seconds pass in the hurry of solitude, yet that silence doesn't fade. And then... Through the edges of my vision, I spot a shadow moving in the distance. My paralysis seems to temporarily disappear as I manage to rotate my body and prepare for the worse. That was, the moment we met eyes. All of a sudden the echoes of my heart came to a halt, I felt as if my tension dropped to extreme levels and my skin chickened and paled. My eyes remain affixed to the bright orange lights on the horizon. The only light in that world was that of mayhem. My knees collapse to the barren ground below me. I do not move a single muscle as I admire in terror and confusion the now nitid scene that bathes the distance. Hidden under columns of smoke, hellish fireworks shook the earth, as the sea of flames expanded slowly but surely through the visage of the city. Skyscrapers in flames, collapsed buildings, entire districts burnt, sunken houses. And silence. My eyes were kept low, scanning the suburbs of the city from far away, trying to rationalize the nightmare my senses tried to feed me. I do not remember how much time I spent looking at that scene from that hill, envisioning the chaos that consumed the place I grew up in by the minute. Trying to get a hold of myself. Nuclear war; A war of some sorts; The apocalypse; I thought of the possible causes. Just like that man in the morgue, detached, distant. It couldn't be real. At the end of the day though. I had emptied my timer. That monster was ready for war and I didn't even know it. With an ear-splitting shriek, the order was sent. That sound was impossible to miss, I noticed, but I chose to ignore it. My eyes didn't move from the area they were scanning. They kept circling the city, watching the destruction from afar like some sort of cheap movie. Racing through the same nihilistic, fake, and empty lines of thought like a broken vinyl. Although we both knew I just didn't want to face it. That thing. Like a child, I stood up from my spot, without lifting my gaze from the ground, and walked in the opposite direction. Hiding and running away from what I feared had always worked for me, and I hoped this would be no exception. I stuck up behind what looked to be a gravestone, and stood there, silently. I kept repeating to myself the fact that this wasn't real, some hallucination, joke, nightmare, dream. I didn't care which. Still, each time I did, the agonizing headache I felt would convince me otherwise. My hands start shaking uncontrollably, the stress it's taking a toll on me. I try focusing on anything else but It's useless, that creature's smile it's carved in my pupils. Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine and increases my nervousness, sweat starts descending from my forehead, and my breathing becomes rougher. You can't escape from the devil. Maybe if I look back again, it will all be gone right? Logic crumbles under pressure. I glance just a little bit under my back. That thing's eyes are now half opened, lethargic to say, but its gaze lands on the same spot it did before. Me. I close my eyes and turn myself into a ball, back to hiding. I'm starting to hyperventilate, an anxiety attack. A big one at that. Does it know I'm here? Is there anyone else in here? Am I alone? Is my family ok? Did they escape? What am I doing here? Should I run away? I should ask for help. There is no way this is happening. It must be some kind of delirium. Where did that thing come from? Where is everyone? Why is everything so quiet? Why won't anyone come? How did this happen? Will I be safe if I just stay here? Should I go? Where should I go? Should I hide somewhere else? That's it I'll just continue hiding away. That thing won't move, I'm safe here right? Am I? You are alone. Always have been. The answer is clear enough to see, but I'm blind. The silence that permeated the world was lost to the thunderous sound of crashing concrete and bending steel. Earth starts rumbling, louder, closer, with each minute, with each second, doom draws closer.