Maybe It's Elves

It's been years.

Or maybe months. The four walls by which I live my life hasn't changed in the slightest. I used to adore the black wallpaper with damask details, the abyss-colored carpet that felt like soft fur between my toes, and the ceiling decorated with a black, purple, and blue design of our galaxy just overhead. In the corner was a bed that had once felt like the most comfortable place to my head with dark silk sheets to match, next to it was a small desk made of cherry wood and an exquisite chair as if I would get to writing incredibly important documents any day now.

Any day now.

Ah, yes. How could I forget about the framed window embedded in the wall across from my luxurious resting place? The paneling was decorated with silver outlines of runes and symbols I'd never seen before. A curtain made of silver and black velvet, like the night sky made into indoor décor, swept around the glass. I must've approached it a thousand, a million, times but the result was always the same.

Speak the time you'd like to see and be helpless to stop any of it.

A part of me truly believed it was put here to inspire hope, another to destroy it.

"Maybe we should try knocking on the glass again," I whispered.

"Are you an idiot? We've tried that dozens of times to no avail. Doing so would only further us into madness."

Of course, I tried it anyway. The people of Pompeii were absolutely oblivious to my cries, even the pounding of my fists until they started to redden and welt. I watched, helpless, as the volcano overtook many in waves of fire and ash. Some died from the acidic smoke, others caught in lava melting in agony. I would've thrown up, but after the fifth time I'd grown used to the carnage.

Apologies, I forgot the most important bit. The window could only show the days of unavoidable cataclysm. I say 'unavoidable' simply because I'd been trying to help avoid them since… since I ended up here. As you can see, I have yet to be successful. In exhaustion, and just wanting to tend to my new bruises, I turned away. Their screams still rattling around in my head, but not as harsh as they once were.

As I approached my bed a small, dainty, bell rang out and when I glanced at my desk a plate of the most delectable steak and vegetables with a cup of deep red wine appeared.

"Maybe it's elves," I speculated as if I hadn't already asked that question before.

"Don't be stupid."

"But-"

"An unhelpful quip works only to irritate."

"Alright."

Down I sat. Ignoring the pain in my hands in order to cut into my meat with the silver utensils, I devoured the meat that now tasted as if made of lead and downed the drink that slid down my throat like acid. Nothing had changed. The food once would have once been synonymous with heaven, now it was a reminder that I should be dead.

Into bed I went. Into sleep I drifted. Dreams of a home long abandoned scattered behind my eyelids. Of arms around me, tenderly tracing fingertips down my back. Of lips against mine in love indescribable.

And then I woke again.

My muscles aching due to the lack of exercise, or maybe the growing weight of disappointment. I sit up and eye the window with scrutiny, with anger, and finally with a silent plea. My bones creaked and cracked as I made my way over, the images from last night sending sharp edges into my heart.

"Show me… my last day on earth."

"You must enjoy hurting yourself."

There I was. In a wasteland of rubble and overgrowth, I had found a way to surround myself with family and new friends. Civilization as we knew it had long since fallen, but we were happy. We had each other.

The tears that flowed freely down my cheeks were the warmest things to touch me in so long. I needed to save them, but I couldn't even save myself. Like I was condemned to live in futility.

My cries made it hard to breathe. Or maybe my pain was gripping my heart so tight all I could do was sob. Either way, no one on the other side could hear it. And I knew death was looming.

Why me?

Why am I here?

Why can't I save anyone?

Why can't I save you?

I don't know where the violence came from. Only that when the bones in my fists were broken and useless, the only thing that felt natural was to go at it with my head.

Again. And again. And again.

I nearly passed out, but then I noticed something amazing. Miraculous! Fantastical!

A crack! A crack in the glass!

I had to keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

I have to save them. Save them. Save them.

Keep going. Save them. Keep going.

I looked up to see their horrified, confused, expressions. "Run," I yelled to them. (Did I?)

"Get to safety! Run! Please!" I continued to screech in horror. ("Did you?") I could hear the pounding of feet against my head like a drum of chaos. It raged from my skull to the ringing of my eardrums. Stars in a galaxy all too familiar covered my vision until even that dimmed to darkness.

"I think I'm dying."

"I know."

"I don't want to die."

"Then why didn't you look for the door?"