The door rattled loudly as I slammed it shut, locking it then throwing my keys onto the kitchen table. I flick the light switch and the fan light sputters and blinks, but eventually turns on. It illuminates a ratty, one-room apartment that probably hadn't seen a mop in at least a year. There are few furnishings, consisting mostly of a futon shoved away in the corner, a second-hand couch and small kitchenette. The walls are wood that has faded to an odd shade of gray, as has the floor, bare except for a worn-thin rug. The only light beside the ceiling fan come from a large bay window on the back wall, clouding and cracked, but still allowing a few white rays of light in.
Home.
I moved here almost three weeks ago, as far into the city as I could. I had to sell the house to one of those rip-off companies since I couldn't have waited around to find someone else. But then again, no one would have probably wanted it. All that mattered was that it was gone and I would never have to look back at that 4-room pit of misery again. Moving had let me get away from everything that had happened, yes, but it also let me escape myself. I was just mindlessly rattling along in my new routine, sleeping all day, and to pay the rent, playing guitar at several bars all night. It had already become so regular I didn't even need to think as I walked down the stairs every night or tuned my guitar---I didn't want to. I didn't want to do anything, I didn't even want to exist....and yet I did. Somehow the fact someone didn't want me to die, some one in this world wanted me to live kept me curious enough to preserve my existence. I was waiting, I guess. Living just to find out why.
Wearily, I set down my guitar case, took off my trenchcoat and dropped it on the couch. Stumbling over to the futon I collapsed and closed my eyes, letting unconsciousness sweep me away.
*
When I woke up I could hear rain pattering against the roof and beating against the window. Blinking my eyes open, I could see cold strains of light falling across the room. It was still daytime. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked out the window. Water soaked everything. It made the dirty streets shine in the fading afternoon sun, and little river gushed down the sidewalk into the gutter. A few cars drove by, splashing water at the even fewer pedestrians, all bundled up and hurrying about under big, black umbrellas.
How funny they seemed, looking down at them in their miniature world, from high up in an apartment building. Infesting as it was, I wanted to be out there with them, I wanted to feel the rain soak my pale skin and drip from my long hair.
Without a further thought or contemplation, I grabbed my coat and keys and strode out the door.
Outside, I was amazed by the fact I had almost never seen the city in the daylight. Everything seemed so new, so refreshed by the water that still poured from the skies. The buildings towered against the clouds, but even they couldn't escape the rain. All the flags that had formerly waved proudly from their lamp posts and stored fronts were now limp and lifeless. I flitted about, focusing on these and everything else I saw, letting my eyes devour it then switch to the next object. Some might say I was excited by this almost new world, but in truth I was keeping myself from thought, drifting away before I could begin to ponder what I beheld. Thoughts just lead to memories, and I must live moment by moment and never remember.
The rain steadily dripped from my eyelashes and plastered my hair to my forehead, as I was too busy to wipe it off. It was a nice feeling anyway, the water soaking through me somehow made my body feel solid, real.
As I walked I passed an old, wrinkled woman with a flower stand. She beckoned to passerbys, who in turn ignored her and kept going. I felt a twinge of guilt over their behavior and bought a rose from her. She gave me a crooked, but gracious smile, and I briefly felt a warm sensation inside. I do not want this existence, but perhaps it is not so wrong to help those who do. I looked at the rose and continued my leisurely walking. The rose was long-stemmed and not quite unfurled, giving it that nice pear-like shape. The petals were a vibrant, deep color of red that almost seemed to glow against the gray city. I could see little raindrops bead and sparkle like tiny crystals, then drip off the lush petals. For a second I closed my eyes and raised my face upward, feeling the warm summer rain run down it then trickle down my neck, feeling the drops fall from my finger tips. Feeling everything.
Then I walked on, wishing that somehow inside I could be like that again.
Soon I came to a bridge, it was an old, stone one most likely traversed by horses, made and used before the cars that now crossed it even existed. The structure had thick, deep gray pillars that anchored against the raging current of the river, and a waist-high guard rail to protect travelers from accidental suicide. Two stone gargoyles stood guard at either side of the entrance, scowling at those who entered; fierce expressions forever engraved in their faces. I strode up the mid-section of the bridge and leaned over the wall, propping my elbows on it and gazing into the watery depths below. The greenish-blue river gushed and swirled about the strong, immovable pillars as if hoping to somehow destroy them for daring to deter its course. Farther away from the bridge, where the water was calmer, I could see little circle-like prints from the raindrops as they feed into it.
I plucked a blood-colored petal from my rose and dropped it into the surging currents, watching as red speck fluttered down and drifted for a second, till the water caught it up and swept it away beneath the bridge. For a second I wished I could be like that little petal, that my directionless drifting would end and I could be swept up from everything, and carried away to never be seen again. Idle, suicidal wishes.
Without looking back, I turned away and began the damp return to my apartment, back to the life and monotony I tried to drown myself in.
Still lying on the wall was the single rose, rain softly dripping from it's crimson petals.
*
The smoke from cigars and fumes of liquor stung my eyes and throat as I entered the dingy bar. The very one that, sadly, I was hired to play in this rainy evening. I closed my eyes and briefly envisioned the warm rain and cool air from earlier, before I gritted my teeth and pushed through the grimy, smelly crowd. The "stage" I found was located in a corner, in front of the tables and booths. A makeshift platform furnished with a wobbly stool and a microphone that had been haphazardly repaired with duck tape one too many times. This place was plain dirty from it's patrons and to it's atmosphere.
I, gracefully as I could, took a seat and positioned my guitar on my knee. I looked out at the crowded tables and bar seats in front of me, full of jeering drunk wash-ups and sleazy old men, some giving me looks that made my insides want to leave my stomach. So instead of acknowledging them, I closed my eyes, took a breath, and as my fingers mindlessly began to strum the proper chords, released the voice building in my throat.
Thus the night went on, and I allowed the music to draw me farther and farther away from where I was. Song after song, I barley looked up at the audience. One thing a time, baby steps. Finally, I finished the last song of the set, and with no more than a mumbled "Thank you" into the microphone, I packed away my guitar and ambled off the stage to gather my check from the manager. Said leech was tucked away in a corner with several rather skanky looking women, and after a bit off pushing and edgy conversation I was able to collect my payment, then quickly made for the door, swatting away wandering hands as I went.
The rain still drizzled on from the dark, starless sky as I stepped out in the cold night air, sweet and refreshing after being in that stuffy bar. I turned down the sidewalk to make my way back home, when I heard something behind me. Turning about, I saw a man, who I vaguely recalled being inside, had followed me out. He seemed to sway and stagger slightly as he walked up to me and grabbed my arm to halt my away-ward progress.
"Where ya going, darlin' " He slurred. His face was uncomfortably close to mine, I could smell the alcohol on his foul breath.
"None your business" I snapped, narrowing my eyes. I did not like this at all, and a very uneasy feeling building up it the pit of my stomach.
"Now get the hell off!" I continued, jerking away in an attempt to throw off his grip.
He stepped back a bit, only to grab my other arm and turn me to face him, a very menacing expression across his face. "Now doll, play nice." he hissed.
My face flushed in anger and I promptly spat at his, while trying to twist free. "Get the f**k away from me!" I screamed. Could anyone hear me?
In response, he slammed my body into the brick wall of the building, causing me to drop my guitar case and tightly shut my eyes in pain.
"I said play nice." I heard him hiss again, then before I could stop him, roughly press him lips into mine.
My eyes shot open in shock, the pain in my back temporarily forgotten. I thrashed about with more desperation, finally managing to knee him in the leg and get out of the bruising grasp. Quick as physics allow, and sprinted in the opposite direction I had been heading, blinding running away into to darkness, with only the sound of his following footsteps and the overpowering haze of panic in my mind.
I kept going and going, my legs pumping with some mechanic energy and my throat burning. I couldn't stop, I had to get away, I always had to run. I could never stop or life would catch up to me, the man chasing me was no longer a would-be rapist; he was my past and my heartache and my impending breakdown. His was the epitome of all my fears and if I kept running, they would never find me, keep running and nothing would ever catch me.
Soon enough even panic couldn't fight physical exhaustion and I collapsed to a halt. With eyes teared up from the burning air, I looked about to see I was standing in the middle of the bridge. Below, I could see and hear the angry roar of the river, now like liquid ebony in the stills of night. The whole scene had changed under the cover of darkness. It seemed even more alien now, threatening yet empty and distant.
My reverie was interrupted by the force of someone knocking into me, my back being forced into the guard wall. The force had knocked the wind out of me as my body was slammed into a low stone wall. Gasping for air, I shut my eyes to stop the hot tears now spilling down my face. Blindly my hands searched for something to defend myself as rough, hasty hands slid up my sides and sweaty lips pressed against my neck. My skin crawled, repulsed, dirty and helpless.
Finally, my fingertips came in contact with something lying a-top the wall. I grabbed at it, only to recoil from the stinging of tiny points digging into my palm. My clouded mind briefly cleared with sudden realization: It was a rose, my rose.
Instinct took over again, with no further thought, I grabbed it and in a swift movement, struck the rose across my attacker's face. The thorns tore into the tender flesh of his cheek, leaving angry red lashes behind.
He howled in pain and shoved me away, blindly clawing at his face in pain. At the same moment, the force of his pushing away thrust my body backwards, destroying my balance. For a second my heart stopped and all time stood still. I wobbled for a second, caught between two directions.
Then I tumbled back over the wall.
Cold water rushed to enfold my body as it crashed into the river. I clung to the rose, still in my hand. The pain of thorns pressing into my palm let me know I was still awake. I could feel myself sinking, until the strong rush of water caught onto me and I was pulled along it's rapid course. It was so mind-numbingly cold I could scarcely comprehend I might die. As the river battered me back and forth, my state finally sunk in...and I realized it really did not matter. A strange peace stole over me. I no longer made any attempts to resist the icy water as it numbed my body and my oxygen-deprived lungs began to burn. I closed my eyes and let it enfold me, take me away. I was that single rose petal now, my wish had come true.
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