Grey Horizon

Se7en

The sky, now dark, had opened up to weep forth it sorrows once more by the time I had reached the street of Melbourne's Home. Thoroughly drenched, I trudge through the deep puddles and mighty hills of garbage to the front door and rapped harshly twice. My teeth chatter as I wait anxiously on the threshold step, arms clutching around my chest to maintain warmth. 

It had taken me all day to navigate the windy streets and markets of Nukaro, keeping my head low as I brush passed hundreds of crowds so as not to be noticed. In those moments, all I felt was hatred. I hated Nukaro, it's mile high buildings and waves of people who held nothing but contempt for people they didn't know. I hated the Qubæ because if it wasn't for that blasted ship, I could possibly be somewhere else at this moment. I hated Herbert, the old hiej for giving me this bloody name and abandoning me to the whims of a world I knew positively nothing about.

I hate myself...

I brood darkly. Standing on this step, out of everything I had experienced, I realised I hated myself the most. The irony of it was that I didn't even know enough about myself to even find specific things to loathe. Sure, by now I knew my real name. But it held no significance or familiarity for it to be real.

Several chunks behind the door snap me from my dark pondering and I lift my face just as the door swings open. Arlo's precocious face peers through the crack to stare at me through his dark, thick-rimmed glasses which begin to fog from the change in temperature.

A smile begins to spread on my face at the sight of something familiar, but I was naive to even entertain such a warm thought.

Arlo purses his lips as he stares at me, his hand grasped firmly on the door handle.
"Arlo?" I whisper through the downpour of rain.
Why wasn't he opening the-

Noting his tightened grip, I flash up to catch his gaze, only to watch him look away.
"You're not letting me in, are you," I state dryly, though my physical state was anything but.

Arlo seems to swallow a mouthful of nerves and slowly nods his head. He opens the door a fraction so that he could slip his head further out into the billowing street.
"You must understand, Amsterdam." He hisses whilst glancing down each side of the street. "The syndicate has placed a hold on you. Having you here would be endangering the refugees I'm already harbouring."
Drax. He must've called Arlo.

His words slice into my gut, leaving my breath shallow. This couldn't be happening, could it? Dropping an arm from my chest I place a hand on the door to keep it from shutting.
"You h-have to help me," I find myself pleading. "Please, I n-need your-"

Arlo shakes the door, releasing my hold and closing the door so that there's only a small crack once more to peer through.
His eyes are full of unspoken apologies but his words did not meet such standards.
"I'm truly sorry, but, I can't help you anymore."

With a loud creak, the door slams in my face, leaving me wet and stunned on the doorstep of the Melbourne's House. I stare in utter shock at the black slick door before me.
"Arlo, please!" I cry, beginning to bang my fists onto the door frame.

With rain pouring down around me, I banged and slammed into that door for what felt like hours.
Bang! Thunk!

Eventually, my fingers and knuckles were red, sore, and bleeding from the afflictions and I slumped to my knees in utter defeat.

"Is this what you h-had in mind!" I roar to the sky.

A flash of lightning retorts with a long, sharp rumble of thunder causing me to flinch. Curling my fingers to scourge the pain, I stumble to my feet and trudge back onto the street.