{Quick Author's Note:} Sorry it's been a while. Heh, I just haven't had the chance to actually sit down and type. I mean, I already have the next couple of chapters done in the notebook, I just need to copy them down. Anyway, and here it goes. Also, one thing I would really like to be critiqued on is dialogue, and how well the sentences flow. So, if you can that would be nice.
Unbecoming of a World
For the short amount of time I had secluded myself to the inside of my apartment, my world was black and white. Not in the dramatic, cheesy “good and bad” sense of that particular term, but my eyes translated the images I saw in a varying black and white scale, which occasionally blended together on certain objects to create an ugly, bleak and bastardized gray. When I had been alive, I saw in perfect and clear twenty-twenty vision with no interference. Perhaps this was my punishment. Along with this disturbance, migraines set in and thumped in my skull, pulsing and pulling at the nerves in my brain, feeling as though they are being ripped apart and left to mend themselves with no thread.
I was rubbing the soles of my temples, fingers gliding over the smooth skin, when I heard the sharp rapping of bones against wood. I let my fingers drop and and glanced up, gray scale shifting into new and bland tints. The heavy, steel door that served as my entrance way was vibrating and shaking in its frame.
“Yeah?” I called out. “What is it?” The door budged more. “Who is it?” I added. My voice had raised slightly this time, and it cracked lightly on the second word. The syllables clung to my throat, striking the vocal chords. It didn't quite sting, but felt...uncomfortable, unnatural.
“Sam Broker,” A man. “Ah, just Broker to...well most everyone. But, I'm here to...well, I'm here to welcome you!” He was cheery, and spoke with a hint of a Brummie accent.
“Yeah, come in then,” I responded warily.
“Can't...you know, the door's locked, there,” He giggled nervously. I guessed that it would probably be considered rude to not say hello now, so I stood up and made my way over, passing wrappers of discarded garbage. As my feet sunk into the mess, the plastic wrappers crinkled and crushed underneath my dead weight. When I reached the door, I pressed a solid button on the stainless steel door, mechanics shifting, then a weight was released, allowing the door to move freely.
This man, this Sam Broker, smelled distinctly of gas.
A large draft of the smell hit my nose, and I was required to pinch myself not to gag in front of him. It broke down and destroyed the rosy, floral scent I had become adjusted myself to, the one I had been gifted with when I came. It seemed impossible to ignore such a vulgarus thing.
“What?” I coughed out as I looked at him. While being next to the wafting stench, I found it unreasonable to produce decent mannerisms, so I didn't. My tear-ducts produced their by-product.
“Hello,” He smiled and clasped me, using his skinny and sour-cream colored arms to wrap me in a hug.
“Um-”
“Welcome to 26427!” He let go of me, and I folded my hands together awkwardly. I looked up to him. A smile was on his face, exposing a decent shade of yellow teeth. Dead skin crusted noticeably on his lips in unorganized little paths.
“Oh, thank you,” I replied, understandably stunned. I blinked, although no real reason as to doing so, and kept my eyes focused on him. He didn't seem like one who would be above thievery. I glanced back at my apartment, then quickly went back to him. Nothing of particular importance or value to me. I rested my mind,
“A bit messy, huh?” He glanced around my shoulders and looked inside. I took another side glance and shrugged.
“I suppose so,” I said quietly.
“It's alright, mine was too the first couple o' weeks,” He said. “Can I come in?” He added cheerfully.
“Yeah, go right ahead,” I said with a bit of sarcasm, but he didn't sense it and moved forward as I moved aside for his entrance. He went straight for the couch I had been laying on, then motioned for me to sit down beside him, handing swooping through the air. “Sure.” I mumbled quietly and placed myself on the thick cushions.
“You came here to welcome me?” I looked at him. He nodded slowly. “What took you so long? It's been what..a week?”
“Two,” He held up two fingers and wiggled them, then wrapped his arms around the back of the sofa. I cautiously nudged myself away from them.“Two weeks. And before you assume anything, I wasn't forced to do this...I mean, I came on my own. I saw you in the death records and I swore I heard name before so I came to come and see you.” His words were rushed and flew out his mouth, along with tiny speckles of spit. My upper lip twinged in disgust as I watched the fluid drop on the floor slowly.
“Oh,” I let out the syllable, and the room became silent. In a normal situation in which I actually knew those of whom I was talking to, I would not have minded to carry on a conversation, even if it was a bit stale. This man, for some reason or another, didn't seem to allow such a thing.
“Yeah,” His chest moved in and out, exhaling. Breathing. “We aren't required to do this. It feels more comfortable to me, though.” He saw me watching him. I wonder what who he was referring to with the term “we.” The two of us, or the rest of this barren world? I looked down to my own body. Still. I could feel occasional tugs from my heart...the once living thing wanted to breathe, to let sweet oxygen run it's veins dry, but was refused.
I felt a tug at my hand, small child-like fingers holding it.
“Let's go outside,” Broker pulled me from the couch. The attitude he had displayed so far reminded of a toddler.
“Why? We can just stay inside...” I trailed off as my feet awkwardly hit the ground.
“No, no, we can not,” He let go of me, but kept a still gaze. “There's so much more to do outside, come on. Let's go.” He was whining. A grown, dead man was whining.
“Fine, fine, okay,” As if I had a choice in the matter. Yet, I agreed and he led me outside.
I saw color when I arrived outside my door.
Thick blues and greens were prominent, glossing my eyes in cheap Easter pastels. The blaring white apartments the dead lived in contrasted in comparison, clashing and looking clunky and solid. If this were my Heaven, and this were my destiny made for me, was I this..tasteless? Disgusting and ultimately having no sense of color at all?
“Lacy!” Broker moaned. My name. My name, my name, my name. Lacy, that was it. I hadn't heard that term in a while. “Lacy!”
“What?” I looked for him with my eyes. He was up ahead, farther ahead.
“We need to go,” He called back, but eventually decided to jog to me as I didn't respond.
“Where?” I asked as reached me. “Where are we goin', Broker?”
“Just come with me, you'll like it,” He pushed me forward playfully, and yet I didn't budge. He took no notice, and ran. After a few brief seconds, he stopped. “You're not following.” He called over his shoulder.
“I don't know if you noticed this, but I'm not wearing any shoes,” I had saw this fact only a second before. While before I had not excuse not to go with him, this had occurred to me and seemed like a legitimate one to use, so I took advantage of that fact.
“Oh, here,” Once again, he was coming to me, this time stumbling, taking off his loafers. Oh Jesus no, I thought, grimacing. Never would I wear those.
“No,” I pushed his offering away. “I'm okay...thank you though.” I tacked on the apologetic thought last second.
“Please?” He gazed at this shoes and then to me.
“Uh, no.”
“Please?”
“You know what?” I held my hands up in an easy defeat. “Fine. I'll just go barefoot.” Of course, my willpower was not strong enough and I had been looped into what he had so wanted.
And so, with that I walked. The ground we stood upon was a cool pavement. Tiny and almost clear rocks had come loose in the pas, and while imprints were left impressed on the flesh, they were made following a numb pain, and my mind barely acknowledged this occurrence.
This place I had been sent to reeked of familiarly to my old world, and yet maybe even more boring to what I had been accustomed to. While in the passing life I had at least been given the slight opportunity to gratify myself, whether it be straggle my way through scene rehearsals or go to clubs that all seemed to blend into the same thing eventually. These days, it was wake...lay around. Add in the TV, projecting curious movies of celebrities well past, and eating whatever was the cupboards. The worst part of this whole, unsatisfying mess was that, while taken and played with so that it fell into perspective, this was not a forced life. If one had wanted to, they could have went outside. I had, up until this strange man named Sam Broker had appeared, simply and mindlessly chosen to slump around a mope-
...
No.
I wasn't moping.
I didn't care that death had reached me. I didn't care that back on Earth, I was buried in the mud, freshly dug slop covering the casket, bugs crawling on the lid with their tiny feet. But that was the cause of it all. I didn't care. As I walked with Broker, I didn't care that I was with an over-grown man child who smelled worse than just a bit unpleasant. Subliminal ignorance, a hollow kind of happy.
Oh well.
“Where are we going?” I tentatively asked. He was at higher pace. Faster.
“A display.” He answered over his shoulder. He didn't show any signs of easing his speed.
“Of what?” I pushed myself to run, grabbing the fabric of my dress and lifting it.
“Of those who didn't make it here,” He said quietly, a vague tint of sadness clouding his vocal chords.
“Hell?” I tilted my head, though he didn't look over to me. “We're going to go see Hell?” I pushed back my curls, then uncertainly ran my hands through them. Huh. I thought, wrapping my fingers around them. I haven't had those since I learned of straighteners. As I played with them, I realized I hadn't looked into a mirror since I had arrived. I glanced down at my arms. Faded red ink, from when I had gone a bit too happy with the markers, stained them completely.
“Which Hell?” Broker looked down at me. He was easily taller than me, more so than a couple of inches. “Well, no, never mind.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “We're not going to any of them. These people...they just didn't get here. They got lost, wandered away, trailed off the path.”
“Oh,” I nodded, although I didn't understand quite as well as it seemed.
“Mhm,” He let out a little noise. “They're not...they didn't...”
“Yeah, I get it,” No, obviously not. I just wanted him to stop struggling of ways to explain it. “How far away is this place, exactly?”
“Through the apartments, more or less,” He said, pointing short and bony fingers at nowhere in particular and waving it, then dropped. His legs, as he walked, moved awkwardly. His body looked to be restrained, like an ill-mechanized doll.
*****
My first encounter with this display of souls was simple and ended quickly. As Broker and I came up to a small, one-person width bridge, we cramped onto it, and gazed down. I let my vision fall upon the murky depths of the water. It was an unattractive green color, with hints of black and blue in varying places. My curls fell over my eyes as I looked down, and I grudgingly pushed them out of the way. I looked over to Broker; He was staring at me. An expression of nonchalance hovered on his features, but he blinked and soon acquired a conscience state.
“Broker…”
“Are you looking in?” He interrupted me.
“Yes.” I continued to stare down. “Oh.” I added as I saw a creature bob to the surface. It had shiny skin, and water fell evenly down its body. “Oh. Fish?” The skin was light and ivory like, and I soon saw that the body wasn’t of a sea dweller. Actually, it wasn’t of anything remotely of the sort. I looked upwards at Broker once more. He didn’t say anything, but nodded for me to continue looking into the water. The bridge that sat underneath my feet felt nonexistent, as I was going to slip through it. Grasping a hard support beam beside me, I put my eyes on the being.
More were popping up now, though of varying colors and shapes, ranging from light to dark and small to large. All had eyes that were enlarged and slightly rectangular, twisting into slanted eyelids. Hideous, bold-faced things. Veins stood prominently outward. I looked back to the first one I had seen. She was brunette, as I could see now. Young. Dead, too.
“They haven't made it to Heaven,” Broker repeated to me. I looked up at him. “They never will.” There was no remorse in his voice this time as he spoke of them. Only stating the facts. I didn't respond to this statement, and directed my eyes away from him, away from blank expression in his eyes. He had told me earlier, while I was till hoping on not going, that I was going to enjoy this, which was an obvious lie. Unless, he did?
Gender:
Points: 3114
Reviews: 7