Death. Have you ever wondered what it's like? To be devoid of all living, to be nothing but an empty shell. What is death? Where does one go? Do we seize to exist or become part of the collective universe among other infinite collections? For centuries man has pondered over the question: where do we go when we seize to live? Religion describes man as consisted of the body, mind and an entity called a soul and death is the separation of the soul from the flesh and crosses on to the eternity while some believe death is the rebirth, a never ending cycle of creation and destruction working in perfect sync. However scie-
"Jack,"
-science says otherwise. There exists no soul. Just a perfect system of coordinated cells with a single purpose of keeping you alive and once you die, you simply dec-
"Jack," she snapped her fingers, "What did I tell you about watching that stuff? You know how much it creeps me out."
"Sorry."
She sighed. "Look. I know you didn't want to leave Brooklyn but you know how much we needed a fresh start after New Orleans and besides, if you keep your eyes off the road you're going to miss the grand entrance."
I slipped the computer into my bag pack that lay hunched between my legs. There were faint chords playing from the headphones hanging from my neck and I slipped them over my head, the cold soft pads filtering out the entire world but a click of the next song on my playlist. A screeching amp soon followed by a soft base rolling in Little Thing Give You Away by Linkin Park. My warm breath settled on the glass, behind a familiar face. Fringed black hair curling just above the hazel brown eyes staring back at me with a witless smile before fading to the trees running past in a blur of dark distortions flicking the orange radiance from beyond it.
We never intended on moving here but there wasn't much of a choice in the first place. Mom and I was at aunt Sherane's house waiting for dad's last world tour concert in Brooklyn to finish up so we could say Hi before going back home. I was curled up on the couch and the bitter taste of salt was fresh on my cheeks and lips. Next to me was Rocky, my aunt's old Dalmatian, watching my favorite U.F.O show –UFO syndrome- which aired every Wednesday at 8pm when he stretched his bony paws on to the Trinton TV controller and changed the channel.
"One hundred miles of devastation expected to cause billions! New Orleans is 80% underwater, floods still rising. Wide spread looting- "the man said switching over to aerial footage of red and white fabrics waving on rooftops, billows of smoke at a distant as houses, trees and power lines fell victim to the rising tide.
I still remember the sound of a thousand clattering pieces that met a gasp and approaching footsteps after, but for some reason I remained curled on the couch motionless with a plain cold stare at the relic. Among the drifting debris was a lonely sign board too far to make out the words but soon after the camera closed in on it the embossed letters read JUNK'N'STUFF. A store that sold old computers, consoles, games and all sorts of gadgets a kid would only dream of. And was also where my best friend Zee worked and lived. Her real name was Lucy but throughout our entire –pop culture mutual - friendship she never talked about her last name where she grew up or where she came from and there was never a bother to ask. No one ever came to visit. Brother, sister or lost cousin. The only thing that was closest to family was her run down van and the store she owned. She had a thing for always trying to sound like a pirate and as ridiculous as it made her sound I seemed to like it. I liked her.
The rising crescendo broke my chain of thought and brought me back to the trees and thickets running thinner with the pale luminescence shining brighter this time. The road had just begun to wound when a sign saying, 'Welcome to Milestone. Enjoy the View!' Scuttled by my window then a warm gentle radiance pressed against my face and filled the entire car with a tranquil glow. Milestone came into sight. A town bordered by a forest stretching over the hills where golden clouds hang in the lambency and cast patches of shadows on thumb sized buildings connected by a dense network of roads filled with streaking lights running along to the multicolored wheel spinning at the edge of town, shimmering across the dark lake.
By the time we drove down hill the dark rose colored sky had been replaced with faint dots and the town began to fill with life. The streets were warm and orange, lined with bars pubs and restaurants as we went by and at the occasional traffic light spotted trench coats in and out of pawn shops and dark hoods trailing behind giggling love birds under the street lamps. It trickled gently. Glistening across the glass like tiny meteors trailing in a mirage of Red green and blue mixing in a vivid blur of color in front of my eyes, hazing out everything as the next song played along. Though the chords were distant but the sound of Rodger's echoing words, 'hello. Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anybody home?' Blended into the corners of my thoughts till I couldn't tell if the music played from the depths of my subconscious or a place beyond but it felt right, warm and brought me altogether to a sense of home with every breath leaving my lungs seemingly making time stretch. It would all come back to me in split moments. Glimpses of a church, police station and an old lady by the bus stop before my iron lids shut me back into the blackness.
"We're here," mom said. "But I can't seem to get the garage door to open. That Chang-ho guy down town must've sold me a faulty remote." She tossed it at the back, and held her face in her hands before slipping them over her black hair tied to a pony tail, "help me with the bags sweetie."
There was a quick gush of air that filled the car as she stepped out, the icy chill creeping up my pants and settling on my arms like wandering ghosts before shaking it off back into the lonely night filled with the chirping sounds of crickets soon stifled by a vehicle approaching the bend. The dark red car parked across the street and a moment later a kid burst through the door and jumped onto the man grabbing a case and after a few giggles and snorts up and down his arms, he went on and kissed the woman arms folded by the door and disappeared behind it. The grass was sparkling and glints of street lights was on the road. I grabbed the bags from the back and the headlights flashed behind me. Mom was at the door, rummaging through her bag then something silver came rattling out moments after and clicked at the door. Right after she stepped into the yellow light there was a sound of something heavy drop to the floor that made my heart thud and pace faster. I rushed in, only to find a leather bag with little spikes lying on the dark floorboard next to the woman in a black denim jacket, frozen and wide-eyed like she'd stepped into the dreaming. Eying the green walls pale to the ceiling lamps before disappearing to the left and ran her fingers across the polished chairs, tables and cabinet with figures glinting through the glass then briskly walked into the next room and rattled some silverware. To my left were l-shaped orange couches, a vase on the table and corners of the opposite wall where pictures of mom and dad stared back at me with stretched smiles across their faces, Gwen's and mine above the fire place. I ran upstairs –the boards still squeaking the same- and stopped by the door covered in biohazard stickers and keep out signs from up to bottom. Each moment that passed standing there felt infinite then I took hold of the cold knob and slowly pushed it.
There was a bright stream of purple light as it creaked open like a magic door and I felt my eyes adjust to the dimming light of a velvet retro glow wrapping around me in a veil of nostalgia. My insides were knotting from the welling excitement and that smile I'd been suppressing since the moment I walked into this remnant of history finally broke through, though it was short lived. Dark globs whirled across the poster patched wall; Metallica, Guns'N'Roses, Van Halen, ACDC, The pretenders and Pink Floyd from one end to the other where a stereo blasted Sweet Child of Mine at the corner. And right in the middle above my bed sitting against the wall was The Shredder - dad's first guitar-with its orange flames gleaming along its red axle. He gave it to me on my 10th birthday 2 years before Neptune claimed it and my guess is it probably got picked up by salvagers of whatever was left of the town. Maybe it was given to charity, some kid with the desire to ignite his life with the mighty strings, or was just broken up and used for fire under some bridge but sometimes I often find myself wishing mom had let me take it with us on the trip to Brooklyn. To my left was a computer sitting on a small desk, its backlight adding on to the rooms lighting and adjacent to it was a shelf that met the curtains fluttering at the far end, stacked with X-Men, Masters of The Universe, Green lantern comics and records from the 90's I'd horded from the attic whenever mom wasn't looking.
The bed was wrapped in black and pixilated Death Stars falling over the edges, veiling my 14 years of shame stacked underneath. The fabrics were cold but they welcomed me back to the warmth that kept me through many winters but before I could sink myself into it, something blinking at the corner of the screen jerked me back up and pull the chair in one stretch of an arm, click and a window popped up the face of the most wicked rock star in all of history. Hair smoothened to the side in a pixie cut of fading red, black eyeliner, and a ring hanging above a smirk.
"Hey kiddo," his voice was different from the last time. Deeper, but one I desperately wanted to hear. "I know I haven't been around much but I thought I could do something to make up for it. I hope you loved the prese-"
"Oy! Jase. We got to shred. Is that Jackie you talking ta? How ya been?
"Anyways Manchester's calling I have to go. Take care of your mom for me and remember to look up if you wanna catch a star, you'll find just the right one." It paused. I leaned back and stared at the star-light crystals scattered across the ceiling and felt the relief escaping lungs and muscles. They resembled the 12 signs of the zodiac.
Dad actually managed to remodel the whole house just the way it was down to the smallest detail and for some reason I had a feeling he left something for mom too, just a little something to keep her from falling further over the edge. He might have been a shitty husband but he was the best dad a kid like me could ever ask for, only to find out the amount of hours you'd spend waiting by the door for someone who'd show up after an all night recording session with the boys but would teach you the base to make up for it even though it was never enough for all the birthdays.
The wind howled and prickled gooseflesh along my arms. My feet suddenly felt like they were dragging along a ball on chains after letting go of the chair but I plodded on towards the window, my arms popped as they reached for it but right before taking hold and sliding it down shut, I caught a glimpse of something across the yard over the wooden fence. Dark hair fluttering with the curtains she tried to get hold of, round face and a grey baggy sweater that looked like she'd gotten from her grandmother on Christmas. She seized her struggle after catching sight of me and after what felt like a stretch in time she shot me a smile to maybe ward off the guy staring at her on the other side. She then gave me a quick wave right before I could muster mine, drew her curtains then lights out. Leaving me in the dead of crickets under dark clouds breaking to let the silver light stream through, a luminescence I often found myself gazing at and for some reason felt it much warmer than the breaking dawn. Peaceful, but a sensation easily scoffed away before drawing the curtains then off to bed, and I'd return to the hundreds of star-lights glittering above me till they began to stretch into streaking white lines. Pulling me in like a black hole but yet my body becoming lighter and consciousness slipping into the nothingness with each moment, then flashing before me like a captain entering hyperspace.
136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDCfCA9eI97
