FicWad

Gerard watched as the city was illuminated by flames engulfing the sky. The fire seemed to burn for hours, always finding fuel in this broken city. His black hair fell to his shoulders looking oily and disheveled as he took a step back from the window, knowing it was never safe to stand out in the open too long. His feet crunched the broken glass that lay on the floor when his makeshift bed covered. This place was not where he wanted to live. It held nothing but hate, greed and death in its streets. How could god be so cruel for force him to live like this. He had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve this. He was forced to watch others kill for food, die in the streets because they had no where else to live because of what others had done in the past. This world reminded him of a story his mother used to tell him when he was a child long before she turned 25. She had never wanted to become pregnant. She didn’t want to bare a child into the vile ways of life this world now had to offer but an abortion would be pointless. Once a child is conceived, they must be born and live to be 25 or else they will simply be reborn. This life, this place was Hell so there was no place to go after this. He remembered the day so clearly. The day his mother turned 25. She stood in the center of the street, others had gathers to watch the spectacle in envy. He held her hand as she whispered in his ear not to cry. That this was a happy day. This was the day she would be free. She told him that she loved him and couldn’t wait for him to join her. He remembered she kissed his forehead as her body begun to ignite into flames. At first there was a scream of pain and her skin was melted but it all happened too fast for anything to become grotesques or gory. In all of 3 seconds, his mother’s body was nothing but ash on the streets and he was left, 12 years old, alone in a world that was as dark as his hair.

Gerard shook his head from the memory, walking over to grab his coat from the broken table. As he shrugged it on, he closed his eyes with a sigh. He grabbed his keys, not that they did him any good, the apartment door had no lock and made his way into the flame-engulfed streets. He kept his hood up and his head down, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. The sky was dark with smoke and the air burnt his nose. His throat burned and his eyes watered from the toxins being emitted in the air. He made his way to the small store on the corner before throwing the door open and pulling it shut behind him. Most of the isles were empty except for a few chips and a candy bar. He grabbed them and made his way to the counter where a young woman stood with her hands on a pistol.

“You best pay for that boy.” He was surprised by her southern accent but only nodded and reached his hands into his pockets, ignoring the intense look the woman was giving him. He threw the money on the counter and made his way back out of the store with his head still low, his food tucked safely in the pockets of his jacket. He knew how the people in this city worked. They would follow people to stores, wait for them to come out and jump them, stealing what ever they had just bought.

The wind picked up, kicking and blowing things in the street around, making Gerard shiver as dust flew up, attacking his eyes. The air was hot and it burnt the skin on his face, feeling like a blow dryer that was held in one spot for too long. He quickened his pace when he noticed as few people walking slowly behind him, keeping his focus forward and his head down. After several minutes of quick pace walking and keeping a close eye on the people behind him, he made it back to his apartment in one piece. Throwing his keys on the table and shutting the door behind him, he made his way over to the broken fridge that served as more of a cabinet being as it had no power to keep itself cold. The previous owner of this apartment had died and though Gerard hadn’t known him very well, he felt sorry for the man.

His name was Harris. He had been 3 days from his birthday, turning 25 when several men broke in and murdered him while he was asleep. Gerard had been sleeping outside the apartment for the night when it happened. He remembered seeing the men sneak inside with knives, keeping low and to the shadows trying not to be seen. Gerard knew not to say anything because they would have killed him too but that didn’t stop his heart from wrenching when he heard the screams of pain coming from Harris’s room. He remembered his pleas for help, his cries of agony as they stabbed him 9 times in the chest, then watching as the tossed his body out the window of the 4 story building. Later that day Gerard had gone up to the room to see what damage they had done and found that taking all of his food and only left a few cloths that were covered in blood, taking everything else. The human side of him was telling him to just leave the place but the survival side of him, the stronger side told him this was a nice place. It didn’t have any holes in the ceiling and the floors were sturdy. It was rare to find such a place and he knew that if he left, someone else would simply move in so it would be stupid to leave it.

“I moved in, like the parasite I am.” His voice whispered to no one, getting lost in the stale air and the broken walls. His fingers ran down the pealing wallpaper and he closed his eyes, trying to imagine what this place looked like before the fires and the pain. He imagined it was a beautiful place. The walls were covered in a light blue paper, lined in golden flowers. The baseboards were gold and the floors were a polished hard wood, giving it an elegant look to it yet still simple. Gerard took his fingers off the walls, walking in to the living room, eyes still closed as he pictured sever chairs placed around a table, polished steel legs with a glass top. There was a couch at the far end covered in a light purple fabric with gold lining. The whole room was very 1920’s.

When Gerard opened his eyes, his imagination turned to ash as he saw the real room. Floors scratched, covered in dried blood while the ceiling had black stains from leaking water. The walls were no longer covered in the light blue wallpaper but a cracking and faded brown looking as if it was the chard flesh of a person staring at him, begging for help. He knew no amount of make up or imagination could change what this room really was, a tomb of lost souls just blindly making their way though this place, trying to escape death yet begging for it at the same time.