The city street seemed to stretch on forever, a never-ending labyrinth of concrete and steel that mocked me with its indifferences. I walked, my feets were carrying me on autopilot, my mind was still reeling from the blow that had struck me mere hours ago.
Her hand, entwined with that of a stranger, flashed before my eyes like a taunting specter, refusing to be exorcised. The image seared itself into my brain, a branding iron that left an indelible mark of betrayal. I had thought she was the one, the only one who truly cared, who loved me for who I was. But now, I realized I was just a fool, blinded by my own desire to be loved, deluded into my own fantasy. Straying me far from what the truth is.
She, the girlfriend that I have been in a relationship with for nearly a decade, is cheating on me with a more promising man that could help her settle in life.
I should have known it, a mere loser who can barely survive with a low salary like me, couldn't make someone at ease realistically.
As I turned the corner, my phone buzzed in my pocket, a cold, impersonal message from my boss waiting to deliver the final blow.
Life seems to bend it in a way to make a joke on me today, cruelly devastating me with another news that I am not expecting to come by so suddenly.
I felt like I had been punched in the gut, the air knocked me out, leaving me gasping for breath. Laid off, due to the economic recession. The word danced on the screen, taunting me, reminding me of my own insignificance.
Seriously, I feel like fate itself is the embodiment of someone who had a sadistic personality in my life.
Beating a dog who had already got beaten down, only someone with a nasty morale would do that.
"..."
I trudged through the streets, my feets were heavy, but my heart was heavier. What was the point of it all? I thought I had found my purpose, my reason to live in her presence. But now, it all seemed like I was just a pawn in her game of deception. And to top it all, I was jobless now after getting fired, a failure in every aspect of the world.
As I pushed open the door to my small, dingy apartment, the familiar scent of stale air and old worn out articles enveloped me like a shroud. I collapsed onto the old couch, my mind racing with thoughts of despair and desperation. Why bother, anyway? What was the point of struggling, of fighting, when the world seemed determined to beat me down at every turn and closed every path available?
All of these negative thoughts made me sigh, leaning my head powerlessly on my old, worn out couch.
Blankly staring at the dirty ceiling, my mind began to drift back to the moment of my early life.
I looked back to my childhood, to the cold, hard street that had been my home for as long as I could remember.
I grew up on the street, a small, insignificant speck of dust, in a cruel world that was determined to crush me. I was just a kid, barely eight years old, when I found myself alone, abandoned by the world. The charity organization found me eventually, and plucked me from the gutter, before handling me to the orphanage.
Fortunately ? Or unfortunately ? I don't know which one I should use to describe my situation at that time.
The orphanage was a nightmare, a constant struggle for survival. I had to fight for every scrap of food, every threadbare blanket, every moment of attention. I learnt to be tough, to be resilient, and be resourceful. I had to if I wanted to survive there. Still, it was better than the lawless street that I used to spend my first eight years of life.
But it wasn't just the physical struggles that wore me down. It was the emotional toll, the feeling of being unloved and unwanted. I was just a number, a statistic, a nobody in a sea of faceless kids. I had no family, no home, nor sense of belonging.
That was how I felt, as I slowly grew older and understood a little more about life.
As I grew older, the struggles only intensified. I had to navigate the treacherous world of the orphanage, where the strong preyed on the weak. I had to fight to protect myself, to keep me from being bullied, beaten, or worse, being someone else's dog before getting thrown aside after they exploited my use.
I learned to be cold, hard, and more calculating, forcing me to be mature ahead of my age, using my childhood as a sacrifice.
I had to, if I wanted to make it out alive.
But beneath the tough exterior, I still had my inner child, vulnerable, scared, and desperate. After all, just like an onion, I can make my outer appearance to be hard, but inside, I am still a fragile young man who had to pass his puberty. I longed for love, for acceptance, for a sense of belonging. I yearned to be wanted and needed.
Just like what normally grown up teenagers would.
And so I built walls, walls to protect myself from the pain, and rejection. walls to keep people out, prevent them from getting too close, seeing the real me. Ended up formed a castle built on a foundation of pain and fear.
Years went by, and I grew older, but the struggles never really ended. I left the orphanage, eventually, and made my way out into the world. I had to fight to find a job, to find a place to live, after all, I am an adult, I should take care of myself.
And then I met her, my girlfriend. She was different, or so I thought.
She was kind, caring, and beautiful. She saw me for who I was. And I fell for her hard. I thought I had finally found my place in the world, my purpose.
But now, as I lay on the couch, surrounded by the shattered remnants of my life, I realize that it was all just a lie. She didn't love me.
Maybe all this time, it was an illusion that I created playing on me, making me believe that all her feelings and emotions stay true.
After all, just like what a wise man once said, "people who fall in love become drunk and stupid"
And that was my first time I felt love, after never having experienced it once for half of my life, so muddled and intoxicated is hardly possible to a clueless and hopeless young man.
There is always the first time in everything, and it mostly ends badly.
Inexperience is the source of pain, or so what people say.
"...."
As the hours passed by, the darkness was closing in around me like a suffocating shroud.
The sky outside turned dark, as a dim moonlight lightened my dark apartment, giving a gloomy atmosphere.
I knew what I had to do. I had to silence the cacophony of my thoughts but in the end, my will slowly waned as the thought to end the suffering here and now, is overwhelming me.
But as I lay there, lost in a sea of despair, I couldn't shake off the feeling of cowardice that lurked in the shadows of my mind. I wasn't brave enough to do it today, to take the final step and end it all.
"Tomorrow, I decided, would be the day I'd take my own life"
In the end, my cowardice won once again, prolonged my will of life into 24 hours more.
As I drifted off into a fitful sleep, haunted by the ghosts of my past, I couldn't have imagined what tomorrow would bring.
A twist of fate destroys all my problems.
As I woke up the next day, I found out that humanity suddenly vanished, along with my worries about being a loser and good for nothing in society.
The city which once a bustling hub of human activity, now stands as a haunting testament to the transience of existence. The street which once filled with the hum of cars, the chatter of pedestrians, and the wail of sirens, are now deathly silent. The only sounds that could be heard now are the rustling of papers, the creaking of rusty hinges, and the faint whispers of the wind.
The world is bustling with human activity, now leaving behind empty shells of civilization.
I, Alexander, who once had thought of ending my life today, stood in front of my apartment, frozen.
All my problems, despair, and the waiting judgment of society are gone.
leaving me behind alone, in this desolate and silent world.
"what the actual f*ck happened?"
And so, as Alex stoned in place outside his apartment, overseeing the sudden turn of eerie situation, a single dark tinted ancient tome, enveloped with an eerie dark aura lying around not far beside his feet, seems sentient, watching interestingly at Alex.