Chapter 1- AwakeA Chapter by Jericho ™
"The sky is painted azure, with the thickly frosted snow blanketing the ground below peice by piece."
The bitter crisp cold of the wind slaps me into what feels like consciousness. My self-poisoned build is just the leftover corpse of a once-blissful human being.
Why do I feel so numb..?
I look up from staring at the dark cracked concrete. An Intersection. Street lights. I don't feel uniform in this environment, but the back of my mind strikes me with a sick sense of Deja-Vu.
While observing the environment more,
A strip of stores on each corner, and a park diagnally across the way. It's snowing. Where am I, New York?,
I notice a thin, rippled trail of thicker fog appears to be floating in front of me, up into the higher atmosphere. I look up. The sky is painted azure, with the thickly frosted snow blanketing the ground below peice by piece.
But the continuously floating fog?
I look down again, expecting to find the concrete. I do, but this time it is camoflouged into the snow, which hadn't been there before when I had first looked.
Did it just start snowing in that split second.. no that's not logical. Maybe I just hadn't noticed it at first... Where am I?
I repeat the question to myself in my mind,
Where am I?
but just realize I had been only thinking this whole time anyway. My mouth hasn't opened. My tongue hasn't moved. But I have the bland taste of smoke in my mouth, and the burning in the pit of my throat. Which leads me back to the question,
The continuously floating fog?
I look back once more, and now notice the poorly wrapped hand-made cigarette gently resting inbetween my fingers being the source of this post-mysterious fog. I stare for a second at the nicotine-filled stick of toxicant.
My arm pulls up, dragging my hand(carrying the cigarette) behind it, and reaches my mouth. I inhale, but it seems my tongue's taste has vanished. I only feel the burning sensation overwhelm my throat. I burst a few cough's. While all this action is taking place, my eyes are fixured on the street light, which seems to be stuck on red.
Broken...obviously. This place..it's... empty.
All traces of human life, what'd you'd expect in a carbon copy of a modern-day New York, seem to be gone.
"It's a ghost-town", I say aloud now, the first time speaking since my entering in this existence. My body shifts upward. I'm standing now... I think. I can't seem to feel my body or limbs or skin or flesh. I step forward... I think again.
It seems my thoughts control my body.
My first logical realization. My thoughts quickly drift though. I can't keep them steady, but the same important question is revealed to me once again.
"Where am I?", I say aloud now, as if expecting an answer from the blankness of my surroundings.
"That's a good question bro, you tell me, where are you? Where are we?", a friendly memorable voice says from behind me. I turn around to find a young man of stocky build. Probably 5'9 of height, around 140 pounds. Light blue, innocent eyes, and a friendly smile. I could somehow sense worry in him though. I don't respond, but only smile. I do not know this man, but his voice was like the equivalent of sweet music to my ears. I recognized it, but I didn't know why.
"Uhmm, excuse me, but do you actually know where we are?", I reply. I normally wouldn't be so blunt and quick, but I felt a certain...comfort with this person. I felt no need to ask him of his name at this point..or yet.
"How would I know?", he laughs and smiles.
He notices the cigarette now and snatches it from my hand,
"What the heck, man? You don't need this crap! You only need God!", his voice, rising and filling with a light-hearted anger. I don't reply. I just look into his eyes, which seem to have widened. I care about him, and I feel the mutualness of the emotion coming from him aswell. It's a strong care. Nearly a love. The love of a brother.
I completely forget about the cigarette, or even the main question of where I am, and ask while stepping closer to him,
"Who are you?".
He doesn't reply, and his eyes begin to water as he turns away.
"I miss you", he says in a steadily more shaky voice as a tear slopes down his full cheek.
"I don't understand...", I say. I feel bad. Sympathetic. For this man, who that instant I developed a lost love for. I recognized this love. I'd had it before.
I stare at the ground with a feeling of guilt, awaiting a response. My mind began to drift into the snowy ground beneath my shoes. I look up, realizing it had been several minutes, and the man is gone.
I look around in a circle to see if I may catch a glimpse of which direction he might have gone, but there was nothing but the empty intersection again. A feeling of loneliness captivates my body into a frozen stillness.
But just for a moment, then once more I am able to control my bodily functions. At least from my mind.
My body shifts once more around, placing itself on the bench I had arrived on. I once more study my peculiar surroundings. The types of shops located on each of the three strips,
Is that a...theatre? Ahh, yes..and a house of harlots neighboring it. And...a candy parlor....
I turn to look at the other chains of outlets lining the surrounding 2 streets, supplying this seemingly vacant metropolis, but they are nothing more than a blur to my eyes. Finding no success in identification of these, I now turn my attention to the park diagnally across the street, but also find no advance in my knowledge of it.
It's too dark to see anything.
My vision gazes over back to the only comprehendable thing in sight, the one street showcasing distinguishable shops. This time, I notice something in the reflection of the candy parlor's window.
What seems to be the figure of a young man again, but of a thinner physique than the other. Hoping for any element of alternative life besides that of myself, my body once again rises, and I experience running inside this reality for the first time.
I'm fast. I have longer legs than I thought I had,
I think, looking down while running. I look up towards nearing the window, and notice that the other form is running aswell, and is now closer.
But how could he have ran from inside the candy parlor..it's size can't hold too much land capacity.
The man stops as I stop, and we look each other in the eyes. His eyes are a dark brown, nearly black fill. His hair is shaggy, wavy, and also resembles a black, but a dyed one. He is dressed in a vintage-style coat, but sleeveless, and pin-striped slacks. He is maybe 6'2, 140 pounds from my best estimate. He has a studious look in his eyes, as if making his first judgement on me, as I for him. I now notice, scanning his physical features across his body, that his coats sleeves seem to have been torn off.
His arms appear severely injured, with damaging gashes lining the flesh. Some still bleeding, and some just saddening scars from an untold past. Untold to me anyway. Everything here is untold. It's almost as if I have a completely erased memory. I have prepared myself for confrontation after much analysis of this absorbing character.
"Hello", we speak at the same time.
A short moment is waited before either one answers, and the replies are spoken simultaneously once again,
We both pause again. My hand is then raised, as is his, and I think to myself,
My God, this is me...
© 2010 Jericho ™
Added on November 27, 2010
Last Updated on November 27, 2010