Taking my first step out, the air changes, it's colder, harsher, darker. The atmosphere in my, usually very up-beat, apartment building is unsurprisingly sorrowful. It's empty, hurt, and very dusty. Very, very dusty. Why is there so much dust? It looks like it's been left like this for years but it's only been a few hours at most. The thick particles of dust float around in the air and once they settle, a wind will blow and it'll all blow up again. How was the wind getting in the building? There's no windows in this area, it's doors, stairs, and walls. You'll get a window when you get an apartment. I step out of my apartment and take few steps into the common hall and the smell hit harder than it did in my apartment. It was much colder in this area than it was in my room, there's are heavy breeze and I haven't looked around enough to find it's source yet. Taking a few more steps in my mouth opens widely in shock for the second or third time tonight. This evening is just full of surprises.
The sight in-front of me was the destruction of the walls that had held me so safe after running away. After leaving that house I was forced to call a home, these walls held me, gave me a free place to stay. I wasn't made to pay rent until I had gotten a job for a few weeks. Look at it now, right in-front of me, a gapping hole is centered in those walls. The stench of death and pain flew in through it and nothing but hurt raced through me. A brick fell out of the wall and hit the ground soon after. The sudden noise pulled me out of my dementing trance. I jumped a little and almost dropped my bag.
I remove my gaze from the gapping hole in the wall and take a few more steps forward. My head turns back and forth observing the obstacles around me. A familiar, mango and vanilla, smell hit my senses as the wind blows again. Mrs. Landfeild was a victim, she laid by the banister and her purple, hand-knitted, sweater flew up in the wind. Her wrinkles were cold, stuck, they looked like they'd be hard. That if I tried to touch them they'd be stubborn under my fingers, like the roots to a tree that had grown so old and still. She was such a sweet lady, a women with so much joy in her that the whole library could feel it. The library was a place of peace, and tranquility. Mrs. Landfeild single handedly educated the children of the complex. Every Wednesday, the kids would gather in the library and for a few hours she'd lecture and interact with them. Different subjects and different activities. She was a person filled with so much life and so much love to give.
A sigh left my body and my shoulders slouched, I walked farther down the hall, the dirt and bricks crunching under my boots. I turn around the rail and Mrs. Lang was sprawled across the stairs, one of her famous cherry pies splattered next to her. Mrs. Lang was always baking something for the tenets on my floor. She was just down the hall on the right. Her pride and joy was being a mother to every single one of us. Her son died in a car accident, a hit and run. The guy that hit him was never caught. She tries her hardest to remain a mother, she told me once that becoming a mother was the best thing that god had ever blessed her with. She said that she'd never let go of that blessing, that being a mother made her the happiest she'll ever be.
It hurt more than a shot to the chest to see all these pale bodies look at me, stone cold eyes, stuck open by the hands of death. The wind blowing over their faces and their memories. As much as I'd like to believe that no one is ever forgotten, they are. Especially like this, one casualty out of the millions that could be dead right now. Everything these people stood for will leaves this city just as they have. It's a sad reality, a sad truth that no one will admit is real.
A deep breath fills my lungs and they began to burn with the grief and regret. My mind was running but my feet were walking and I didn't know how to handle the way I was feeling. My head felt like a tv full of static. I hate the static but I fear I'll snap if someone were to change the channel. Since I've rolled over on my bed tonight, my mind hasn't been quite. Nothing has been able to leave me in a state of peace. A state of peace I didn't know I had until it was taken from me.
