The rain bounced off the concrete of the alleyway. The sound of each fall deafened anyone in the vicinity, the perfect cover-up for the tears that ran down Noah's cheek. A perfect cover for the screams of pain and sadness. Slumped down against the brick wall, his body became heavy from his clothes. His thick brunette hair dragged down by water drops.
In Noah's hand his phone, a picture of him, and another man illuminated on the screen. The two laughing as they tried to fit into the same armchair. Happier times, Noah thought to himself, his knuckles rested against the cold, wet concrete floor. He swung his head back. The dull impact of his soaked hair slap against the brick wall was the only thing he could feel through the numbness of his drenched body.
PING
The sound from the phone cut through the torrential cacophony of rain, but the strange thing was. His phone should have been on vibrate. The screen had turned black, and golden writing sat in the center of the screen.
Do you wish to live a better life?
Two boxes sat underneath with a yes, or no. Noah just laughed, he didn't understand it, but for some reason, the question made him laugh. A laugh with no substance, no feeling behind it. Just numb laughter that rung hollow in the alleyway that he slumped down in.
"What is this? Is this a joke? Some sick joke. Of course, I want a better life!"
Noah's scream echoed, and died in the rain.
Confirmation accepted. Welcome to Second Chance
For a brief moment, Noah swore that he saw a flash of purple and the raindrops stop mid-air, that the cold air disappeared, and silence had enveloped the world around him. Then the rain began to fall again just as quickly.
The screen faded back to the normal home screen, but with a new app. It was a black and gold symbol with a snake eating its own tail. The letters 'SC' in the middle of it.
"Second chance?"
Noah clicked on it, but a timer showed up. Ten hours.
"Must be a countdown to the app start. Oh, fuck, who cares," Noah decided it was time, got up, and left.
Noah threw his keys down onto the kitchen bar top, water dripped onto the old wood floor. The modest apartment was a little worn down, with faded white wallpaper and weathered and beaten wood floors. It had been home for him, and his now ex-roommate, for over five years. Ever since they both moved from their small town into the big city. They filled it with cheap furniture they found on the streets. The now green-tinged sofa they tried to power wash, the stripped wood table they accidentally burned when his roommate had a girl over and set up candles. Fairy lights pinned to the walls after they blew up a light bulb at Christmas and never took them down. All these were memories, once good, now gnawed deep inside him like a rot spreading throughout his body.
The door to his room was still closed, Noah stood before it, his head rested on the cracked white paint listening for any sound, for any sign that this was a dream. His fingertips rubbed against the cold brass doorknob, but he couldn't find the strength to open in. Not today.
His body flinched as his pocket vibrated. Mama June, the closest thing he had left to a mother these days. Shit, he really didn't want to take this call.
"Noah? Are you there?" Her words trembled.
"Yes mama June, I'm here," Noah slumped down against the door.
"I know I'm about to ask a lot, but. Can you keep his stuff for now? I can't bring myself to sort it."
"Of course. I...Don't think I can go into his room right now either."
YOU ARE READING
Second Chance
FantasyNoah Stroud is down on his luck, a loser. Disregarded by society for his looks and interests, and now. His best friend has been killed in a car accident. At the depths of despair, there is a glimmer of hope. His phone screen reads. 'Would you like...