Together Always

I was born in fire and ashes. A shadow of the man that was.

Those that knew me before would no doubt call me a stranger now.

Not that there’s anyone left.

*

The air runs thick with malice, a fog I’ve waded through countless times. Nothing but the dreary echoes of these drudged feet for company. I’ll admit breathing was hard at first, the waves of corruption, war, famine and death so strong it became almost unbearable.

But then it all just....stopped.

The species known as ‘humans’ that had evolved and developed over millions of years, practically wiped out in a matter of weeks.

In the end we only had ourselves to blame.

A flicker of light reflects off these dulled eyes, the spark of a broken lamppost as unkempt as the clothes on my back. What colour you ask? What exactly is colour? In a world ruled by darkness, the only place colour may exist now is in our memories. Whats left of them anyway.

The lamppost doesn’t spark again. Perhaps it decided life just wasn’t worth living anymore. Maybe the real me decided that too.

We are alike in that way, two halves of a broken body that will never again be made whole.

I let the lamppost guide me in aimless wander, following its fallen direction to somewhere yet nowhere in particular. Why does it matter? In the end all roads lead to destruction.

It matters not when I arrive. My watch stopped ticking a long time ago.

The sun died much earlier still.

I could be young; I could be old. Perhaps even immortal! The only thing that matters is that I’m moving-

Unlike the withered skeletons that watch me.

*

Hardened hands hold me in a vice-like grip, nails frantically clawing at tattered fabric in desperation. For what I do not know, but the insistent pleading and scratching tells me what they want has not yet been found.

Help me, help me, help me!

A silent scream escapes from these feeble lips, trembling in fright as first blood is drawn. Despair gnawing at me like the bitter cold now permeating my flesh, slowly devouring me from the inside out. I cannot fight it I realise, only pray for a swift end.

And so, I let go.

The hands fall away-

My hands, I realise. A broken nail drips blood onto the scorched earth, leaving me with nothing but regret and betrayal.

My arms tremble. From the cold? Fear? Maybe even both?

Pain is what brings me back to reality, an anchor amidst a raging sea of insanity. It reminds me I’m still here, still human, even as I walk wounded in both body and mind. I grasp my coat once more, hoping it will shelter what little sanity I have left-

Even if its already full of holes.

*

*Splash*.

Why were my shoes wet?

"I stepped in a puddle"; my mind helpfully supplies.

Ah, that’s it.

Soon my feet are wet too, the mesh trainers easily absorbing water like a sponge. "How carless", I berate myself, now forced to deal with the annoyance of squelching feet! A lesson I was in no hurry to replicate.

At least it was a company for my misery.

The air is weighted with rain, the involuntary tears streaming down my face are proof enough. A believer would no doubt say it’s the heavens grieving for a paradise lost, and I might be inclined to agree.

Not that it matters now.

Still, I gaze into the leaden sky, as though expecting the rain to wash away my sins.

Something tells me though mankind was forsaken long ago.

A shadow in the distance draws my attention, disfigured and indistinct. My body moves without a second thought, searching for answers beyond the ominous veil. Only when its true form is revealed do my feet finally grind to a halt, body rooted to the spot.

A house.

My house.

At least, whats left of it anyway.

*

I gingerly trace a trail amongst the uprooted tiles of the driveway now littering the path, the ruins of brick and broken glass welcoming me back with aching familiarity. A chance to rest these weary bones, even if only for but a moment. Then I will leave again.

Never to stay, lest I succumb to the plague of nostalgia.

War may have taken my world, even my heart.

Cut me loose from all I’ve known.

But if it’s fate, then-

*CREAK*.

The rotten floorboards of the entranceway groan beneath their master’s feet, protesting the silent contemplation. They won’t hold out much longer!

I break for the stairwell, relieving them of their burden.

Upstairs is open planned, divided no longer save the wall standing no more than a single foot between the two bedrooms. The only other section still partly intact being the farthest corner-wall of the master bedroom, carved into an uneven ‘L’ and standing at around eight feet. A single picture hangs from an iron nail.

The woman in the image smiles, still the same. Perfect even! Forever encapsulated in the memory. The man staring back though is different, a stranger. Or perhaps I’m the stranger. Neither feel like the real me anymore.

Hands reach into coat, searching, seeking assurance, panic settling in when I just can’t seem to find it.

No. No. NO!

My eyes dilate as pockets are frantically turned inside out, clothes scrunched and ruffled with such ferocity they may very well tear themselves apart! The abyss welcomes me openly where nothing reaches but the drumbeats of a racing heart, growing louder and faster with each passing second as terror seizes control. Hands now flailing wildly, another pocket searched-

To brush against cold metal.

I slowly breath relief and retract the object of my desire.

A heart shaped locket.

Nothing special about it. Just a simple trinket. Yet worth more than any other material belongings man could ever hope to possess.

She sees it. Sees me no doubt. Eyes roaming to the necklace hung neatly around her neck. Judging. Comparing.

It’s the same-

But also, not.

Time has left its mark now, air and moisture tarnishing the sterling beyond repair. A brittle chain barely clinging to the last threads of life.

I will it to hold fast, less everything fall apart.

*

The roaring of an open fire breathes life into an empty building.

I stare unflinching, handling the locket with all the care and grace these chunky fingers can muster. Rust carves into angelic wings, yet they remain ever faithful to their duty. Guarding a hidden secret few knew about.

She wore the locket every day, a gift from our 5th anniversary. She was almost never without it. If anyone were to ask about its contents, she would simply smile, eyes alight with mirth and say it’s locked. Empty. As if she were a mischievous child with something to hide, not the adult she was.

For a moment I lose myself in memory, images burning fiercely until they are nothing more than ash in the wind.

Only cold emptiness remains.

Would she be proud of who I’ve become? A question with no answer, only maybes and what ifs for me to contemplate. I turn the locket twice over in hand, an internal battle raging within the mind. My face gives up nothing but the odd twitch, until an outcome is reached.

The latch releases its grip as I slowly pry wings apart, revealing the contents within.

Each wing holds a single photo. One of him, and one of her. Yet my eyes linger on neither, only the simple message engraved into the heart;

Together always.

A broken promise.

An oath to return never fulfilled. My nightmares remind me enough.

“The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless”, someone once said.

For better and for worse.

But then what is reality and what is fiction? When lines begin to blur, blending until you simply can’t tell them apart anymore.

Only one thing remains constant. Certain.

When I am little more than the dust of the earth, her heart will stay with me.