Run

Chapter 22

I stifle a yawn, running my fingers through my hair. I plant my hands firmly on the ground and push myself up into a sitting position. My eyes take a quick sweep of the room, slowly but surely adjusting to the dim light that is streaming in through the open windows. Wil, Key and Aries are still sleeping, not that I would blame them for it as it’s still relatively early in the morning.

I smoothen out the creases on my shirt, stifling yet another yawn. My eyelids are so heavy and it is taking all my willpower not to fall asleep. Even so, I don’t want to fall back asleep. I don’t want any more of those nightmares to come back to haunt me.

I stand, stumbling towards the exit, feeling slightly disoriented, deciding to go out for a walk, partly to try to clear my head as well as to gather my thoughts, partly because I am mildly curious of the ruins, wanting to see it for myself up close.

A cool breeze sweeps past me and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to warm myself up. As I walk, I take a good, long look at the sky above. The sky is still dark, though there are hints of dark red and orange, indicating that the sun is about to rise soon.

A smile tugs at my lips. No matter how many times I may witness a sunrise or a sunset, it will never cease to amaze me. It is just such a breath taking and spectacular view. I guess there still are couple of things in this world that are worth seeing.

I continue walking, the gravel, pebbles and loose tar crunching under the soles of my shoes. For some reason, the sound it produces gives me a satisfied feeling, perhaps that, for a change, something is actually real.

I stop when I reach a rundown building merely a couple of blocks away from the one Key, Aries, Wil and I are taking refuge in. I reach out to touch it, feeling the rough bricks under my skin.

Most of the paint has already peeled away, leaving the orange clay bricks and dried white cement in all its glory. The building is not particularly tall; perhaps around three to four storeys high, at most.

Nearly all the windows have been smashed, the curtains drawn, almost as if someone had been hiding inside. The door has been kicked down, the rusted hinges still in place. An old sign that has the letters ‘O’, ‘U’, ‘A’ and ‘T’ – the rest of the letters must have faded away over the years – hangs precariously above the doorway, looking as though it’s about to fall.

I step into the building, expecting to see a sight similar to that of the one we are taking refuge in. Never have I been so wrong.

Admittedly, the damage is as bad as the building we were in, if not worse. However, I can’t say that it doesn’t look more spectacular. Sometimes, damages look more gorgeous than an item that is in perfect condition. It makes a person wonder why.

A shattered chandelier hangs from the centre of the room, catching whatever little rays of light that are streaming into the room, sparkling in the poorly lit space. It reflects the light to all parts of the room, making it seem magical.

Cobwebs hang lazily from the corners of the room, as if waiting for someone to dust them off. There is a spiral staircase further up to the left and an unused fountain right in the centre of what seems to be a lobby of some sort.

The dark red carpet lines each stair, leaving a small space of marble floor on each side. Thick white dust has settled on the carpet, giving it spots of white. The rest of the floor is marbled, just like that of the stairs. Black marble.

Just like everything else in the room, the old, three layer fountain is dusty. It is large, taking up one quarter of the space in the room. The edge of the bottommost pool is wide enough for people to sit on. The small tiles are covered with so much filth that it is almost impossible to see what the colour of the tiles are.