Echoes and Silence, Patience and Grace

Echoes and Silence, Patience and Grace

From all the stories I’ve told and retold before, this one is of a different kind, based on accounts of my faulty actions, unbiased preservation and reserved observations, here is a tale told not from the goodness of my very own heart but of the darkness and insanity that engulfed it. Of the heartbreaking, pestering times that I endured as not only as a hero but of the aging of a villain. A tale created on the template of redemption, hope, loss, and desperation. Of course, more revolve around my world, but of little insignificance that they uphold. I have built a temple of purgatory, for all to come and redeem themselves. I unscathed my hopes and dreams for a better place to reside. I harbor the soul of a true hero, may it be a hero among good or evil, nevertheless, a hero will always be a hero. Now dawn seems to begin, and so does the story you have yet to know. I leave now, to continue my journey. I hope to find you there, lost soul of mine. Sincerely, ________

It was all for nothing I thought. Actually, there was nothing to fight for in the beginning, I just came to believe what my heart told me and if anything, i tend to believe many things. Was it my conscious, that forever would control me and force me to believe anything, that by any means necessary, keep me a safe distance from a world that I have become distraught from? There was something, like always, ticking away at my heart. The unpreserved tendency of knowing that something bad is about to happen would always and has been distracting me from a world that I have been dismissed by. I have no longer been in contact with the real world, I have no longer cared about it. It was as if the pretentious acts of the world desperately acted upon itself. I had made everything out of what I could have been during those past weeks, when I seemed enough to care about this shit world that has become home. Oddly enough, it seemed hectic to even notice that I still cared and would always despite the problems at beforehand.
I restated my thoughts, again and again in that little, empty apartment. My safe house. Not much occupied me, I was left a couple of sturdy planks to cover up the windows, which I haven’t done yet on the account that I have become blessed with a view of the city outskirts, vast lands that held no molds of society. My apartment had only one room, and of course a bathroom, but that was compacted enough that you could barely take a piss in peace. My kitchen comprised of a lone fridge, and a crappy, sink that rang up tap water that seemed to come out brown among other things. I barely had food, some canned and most perishables, same with my insanity. It was the least that they could do before taking off. They knew what was going to happen. Sadly enough, I didn’t. all I knew was that society itself would collapse under doomed envisions. How they knew this was beyond contemplation. Especially if I became distant from the society that deemed myself a undesirable soul, damned from hell. Such harsh words, but I mean no harm. They were right. I was no longer a hero to them. Nor will I ever be. I paced myself back and forth in front of what used to be a TV. Now it stood as my own personal monument of wasted time.
I grew weary, almost driven out of my mind. I had been locked up, by my own terms, for what seemed like eternity. But I exaggerate, for it has been only a week since I’ve waited for the unknown. Have I became a victim once yet again? I dismiss my faulty thinking and pick up my journal. A black, embodied piece of my soul. It was embedded with silver hatched crosses, the holy cross, and to point out, I was not a religious man. The cover, sturdy and black felt leather, it was an artifact that I held closely to my heart. I opened it, the pages, rough on the edges and delicately fined to the core. It held only one entry…

October 4th, 2016, 1:33

“The earth crumbled that very day, as along with me. Morning autumn, what a season to bring that destruction. When everyone fucked shit up, they didn’t properly dispose of it. They grew reckless, destructive people who gave into their own vivacious desires. A vermillion fire burning at the core of their very own soul. Slick responses were cried out, to prove their own innocence….”

There was nothing else written, nothing to be written about if I might add. I grew groggy, my eyelids collapsing. I haven’t slept well lately. The most I’ve slept was about five hours, if not less. I’ve been having these dreams. Horrible dreams of something that should have never existed in the first place. But I digress. I close the black leather journal and think. Think of a time lost long ago, when I actually had a life outside of these walls. A life that I will never have again. I look around, at the pictures that hang up on my wall. The recognition, bravery and the beauty of a once time hero. I was never a hero to begin with or will I ever be entitled to the ranks of hero status. I was always going downhill from day one. Was it my fault that I got to attached? My ability to ever give a damn was a precautionary attempt to blind me from the real truth or as a matter f fact, to control me from ever finding out the truth. It took a big leap to get me this far, down in the pits of tartarus. If it wasn’t for them, I would have been living a false life and as naïve as I am, I would continued to believe there lies. Most important though, I would have still been there so called hero. But by what means am I deemed a hero?
The aching heat of the room snapped me back to my senses. I got up, and strode to the only window that I hadn’t boarded up. The only window that ceased my insanity. And what a magnificent view it had, of the pure beauty of life. A vast wasteland, on the outskirts of the Haven. Emptiness, not a single detection of life. The far out reached Diablo Mountains edged out in the view, slumbering giants. Diablo’s surrounded Haven for a little partial border. On the outside was yet to be defined. Haven was our little oasis, founded upon greed and hate, which still remained to say the least. Centered in the middle of the vast wastelands, it housed three dividing sectors, Azure, Black, and Grey. Black was the blundering city, home of Venictus, Governor and head honcho. Towering buildings hovered over you, it was a bustling part of town that never seemed to sleep it was the child sister to New York. Major companies, head police quarters, and red districts were common around here. Hookers, crooks and rival gangs were not to looked down upon, as they were as powerful as Venictus. Azure was the housing district and homes to thousands. Homes of all sorts, some rich, some poor, and some non existent. Azure was a giant hill that overlooked the other districts. Houses scattered as such as the people. It was quite peaceful and rarely had any major disturbances. Grey was the trading district and also the construction core of havens system. Workers dealt with the power, telephone lines, water systems, and everything else. The airport and telecommunications were a big chunk of grey district. As to why it was called haven was not up to me. To think that our fore fathers founded this basis upon greed, hate, lust and well, basically founded on the seven sins. This was no heaven nor hell. It tipped between the two, going back and forth, tinkering with us. I thought it as purgatory, yet the odd thing was that I was still alive.
I pulled my shaggy hair out of my eyes, and continued to stare the wastelands. In the brooding distance, a storm was coming, both realistic and metamorphically. Thundering clouds would soon loom over Haven, and bring destruction. The wind soon began to howl and I grew anxious. For what though? Is this what they told me what would happen? A mere storm that would bring destruction upon havens population? As always, I believed it and this time it was different, I knew I was right this time. The storm was moving closer than I had anticipated. Thunder bloomed and lightning crashed, a furious battle over Diablo Mountains. They would soon take the fight to Haven. I soon became weary, my knees buckling down, and a total fear gripped me. I did not like this one bit. As pretentious as I am, I soon came to realize that this was my last day in this hell hole of a apartment. No more limited space, no more brown shit colored tap water and most of all, I would leave my insanity locked up here. I turned away from the window to pack my things. I went into my bedroom, a dusty unused bed, no window, and a bookshelf filled with tons of books that I had forgotten I possessed. There was not much in there, I took out a black tee, some socks, undergarments, personal items, and chucked some pieces of meat, bread and got my canteen ready. I was prepared for doomsday yet I had not come to a conclusion as to what was going to happen. What if they lied and it was nothing but a mere storm? Was I soon to become a pawn in their little game, to be succumbed to idiocy once again? Well, whatever might happen, I was still prepared to leave this forsaken room. Shit!, what about protection, I thought to myself. I hurriedly searched the living room, bedroom, bathroom and every corner of the room, because I knew I would need something to defend myself. What I found was a metal baseball bat, a crooked pan, and some lighter fluid and matches. I ditched the pan and stuck with the bat. As for the lighter fluid and matches, I tucked them in my bag. The rain had begun as light sprinkles on the window pane. Thunder roared above us and lightning so close that you could touch it. I looked out the window and saw pure darkness. The storm had covered the mountains with a blanket of blackness. The wastelands turned into a dense marsh, and the skies were bickering. The winds picked up greatly, almost that they could shatter the window. I walked back to the couch, and intently snatched up the remote and turned on the TV for the very first time since I got locked up in there. My heart pounded for what was supposed to come up. I cocked my head back to the window and a knock at the door. I turned my head towards the wooden door. There was no signal from the television, only static. Odd, how there wasn’t that annoying alert that would demand you to remain in your houses and such. Another knock at the door. I didn’t bother to get up and answer, they always left after the second knock and if they wanted to get in, there was no way in or out. The only escape was the window and that fit me perfectly. I switched the TV off and checked the door. I stared in the peep hole and saw nothing. Like I told you, they leave after the second knock. Room 33 stood across me, the empty hallway was barely lit. there was no sign of life. The storm continued to rage on, and it would leave a devastating wake in it’s aftermath. But there was no aftermath. And there wouldn’t be me at the end of this day. Today, I would redeem myself as the fallen hero. The alarm in my bedroom went off as did my watch. It read 12:33. It was time. I got my bag, closed all the doors and headed out the window. Haven would be No More.

Echoes and Silence, Patience and Grace


Joined May 2010

  • Artist

Artist's Description

an autumn day, and a autumn apocalypse.

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