Human Trash

The new council club (1)

In the dimly lit room, the only source of light emanated from the soft glow of Alvia's laptop screen as she diligently worked on her school project. The rhythmic tap-tap of her fingers on the keyboard was interrupted by a sudden, jarring noise that echoed through the stillness.

A thunderous bang reverberated through the air, followed by a grating, dragging sound that sent shivers down Alvia's spine. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the comfort of the couch, her footsteps heavy with resignation as she made her way to the window.

She peered through the glass. Across the narrow street, illuminated by the flickering streetlamp, stood the figure of her neighbor, Mister Makoto. His usually composed demeanor was shattered, replaced by a frantic energy as he staggered beside a mangled heap of metal.

The sickening scent of burnt rubber and gasoline wafted through the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. Alvia realized what had transpired. Mister Makoto had collided with the truck again, his vehicle now a twisted wreck of shattered glass and crumpled metal.

With trembling hands, Mister Makoto began dragging something from the empty street towards his old, grey car.

Alvia's heart raced with a mixture of dread and irritation as she hastily adorned her jacket and muffler, the cold tendrils of the night air nipping at her exposed skin.

Slipping her feet into a pair of pristine white shoes, with a deep breath, she descended the stairs, the echo of her footsteps reverberating through the desolate corridor like an ominous drumbeat.

Emerging into the dimly lit street, Alvia's eyes fell upon the figure of Mister Makoto, his silhouette distorted by the flickering streetlamp overhead. His form seemed almost ghostly in the pale glow, a haunting reminder of the darkness that lurked just beyond the reach of the feeble light.

Mister Makoto's struggle was evident as he grappled with the weight of the sacks, his movements sluggish and labored. Alvia approached, her steps faltering as she neared the scene of chaos unfolding before her.

Without a word, she reached out, her fingers curling around the coarse fabric of one of the sacks. The weight of it was almost unbearable, threatening to pull her down into the depths of despair. But Alvia refused to yield, driving her forward.

Together, they moved in unison, a silent symphony of suffering and sacrifice as they navigated the treacherous path towards the elevator.

As they reached the relative safety of the elevator, Mister Makoto offered a bow of gratitude, his weary eyes meeting Alvia's with a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

But for Alvia, there was no solace to be found in the hollow gestures of gratitude. This was not an act of kindness, nor was it a gesture of goodwill. It was a burden she bore out of necessity, a duty thrust upon her by the cruel hand of fate.

With a heavy heart, Alvia ascended the stairs once more, her limbs heavy with fatigue and her mind consumed by the weight of her own despair. As she entered her apartment and secured the door behind her, she collapsed onto the couch in a state of utter exhaustion.

Her gaze drifted aimlessly to the laptop sitting before her, its screen illuminated by the soft glow of the screen saver. But despite the allure of her unfinished work, Alvia found herself unable to muster the strength to continue. Instead, she simply sat in silence, her mind awash with the haunting echoes of the night.

As the morning sun cast its gentle rays through the curtains, Alvia stirred from her slumber, the shrill ring of her phone piercing the tranquility of her room. With a groan, she reached for the device, her fingers fumbling clumsily as she answered the call.