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post #7 of (permalink) Old 06-11-12, 02:37 AM
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Default Selfless Tears.

Selfless Tears.

Lost. Alone. In a world of billions I am lost and alone and there is none to rescue me. They move about the streets at all hours of the night and day droning about like zombies to their assigned duties, places of dining or habs where they spend their sleep cycles only to do it again when they awake. I should clarify; they did move about. Now they are all dead.

My name is Alaxander Trask and as far as I know I am the only one who has survived, but I don’t know why or how. Billions of people all around me, dead or so it seems. Most just stopped moving. They are frozen in place like statues that refuse to fall when the wind blows or the storms come. Their eyes are caught mid blink, wide open or completely closed. Some were in conversation, some animated and filled with exaggeration of the facial features or hand gestures. They remained that way when they died. Some people are sitting in their offices or in process of consuming food freshly bought, mouths open for their next bite.

I move about them seeking some form or sign of life, but there is none; they are frozen in place while I move about lost and alone. It frightens me to see the world around me so lifeless. There is nothing I can do about it; every thought and hope I have is blown away saturated by shock and disarray.

Weeks have passed now and the bodies that stand frozen in place have begun to rot, their flesh decomposing, their stomachs distended and bursting from gaseous pressure, bowels empting and falling and spilling their contents upon the streets. The world stinks with decay and I cannot escape the impurity of it all.

Nothing matters anymore. I am alone in the world that I once loved. The food is all rotten except for canned goods. Water is polluted. The sewers have overrun and rats by the trillions have emerged from the depths of the underworld to feast upon the dead. Flies and worms, maggots and carrion infest the dead, but still they stand and do not fall to the ground.

I am seeing shadows move about in broad daylight. I hear them screaming and moaning and calling out to me to save them but I cannot. I am helpless to release them from their terror. They are the souls of the dead confined to the world they once knew, but can take no part of its pleasures anymore. I am broken, my hair is long and matted and I am sure that my mind is losing all sanity. The ghosts swirl about me in the day and attack me in the night. I believe they are angry that I am not helping them.

I tried to shoot myself the other night and end it all. I want no part of this world anymore, but they stopped me from my attempt laughing as they smashed me to the ground and held me in the dirt. Months have come and gone and still the bodies have not collapsed to the ground. Billions of skeletons and hollow eye sockets stare into nothing; stare into my very soul as I walk by seeking something to eat, something to let me live another day. I want to die but I cannot, they will not let me. Why?

It has been a year since the event but I am no longer alone. They dance about me now keeping me alive, keeping me from sleep, keeping me from rest. If their souls cannot rest they will not let me rest. They say I owe them something, but what I do not know.

Sickness has wracked my body and I have lost weight. I am a walking corpse in a forest of corpses. The shadows sooth me and keep me from dying and I weep for the helplessness and loneliness I feel.

There is one soul that speaks to me now. The voice is distant and filled with sadness. I hear her weeping as she speaks to me. It is the voice of a child asking me, ‘Why are you alive. What is your purpose?’ She asks me every day, every moment of every day. I have no answer for her.

The sunset is red and purple, the clouds alive with beauty. I watch from the rooftop of a building and begin to cry. Tears run down my face as I contemplate the questions of the child ghost. What is my purpose? Why am I still alive?

What do I owe any of the dead? I begin to think about those who have died and the lives they must have lived. I begin to grieve for the souls that move as shadows all about me. They hear me weeping and leave me alone. One by one the voices leave my mind and I am left in silence in the night.

For the first time since it all happened I have stopped thinking of myself and I am thinking of them. I hear them in the background of my mind as they join my lamenting. For the first time the tears I shed are not for myself and I understand my purpose, the reason why I am still alive. I owe them a debt of sadness and a debt of remembrance.

The night goes by and the sun is rising. The clouds are alive with pinks and yellows of many shades. I have wept all night for the dead. As I look down from the rooftop I see that the corpses are no longer standing. Each one has fallen to the ground. I understand why they are no longer standing and I begin to smile. The shadows no longer move about, the voices no longer scream in my mind. For the first time in my life I am at peace and so are they, I think. I owed a debt and have paid the restitution with the tears of my soul.

1,010 words.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
Look up Adrian in the "Compendium" to find them. Thanks

Last edited by Adrian; 06-11-12 at 02:41 AM.
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