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Gone.
Just like that.
It hits you harder than you expect. You may not have been blood siblings, the bond you share is just as intimate and powerful. For all intents and purposes, you’re as much of a sibling to Danny as Jazz was an older sister to him.
The events that transpired are still muddy in your mind. In one moment, it seems like you have your life together. In the next, it’s all gone in one fell swoop in a bright orange haze.
Unbearable heat forms in your body. Your breath shudders in terror as it violently shoots through you. You stiffen, awaiting a fiery death that never comes.
Your tired eyes crack open to survey the dark room. Still and quiet with the cool night soothing it. It stands exactly as you left it, and expect it will be for the rest of your life. You squeeze your eyes shut in disgust.
How dare such thoughts worm into your mind.
You hardly notice that you don’t fight the notion. Your gut clenches painfully. You cast your gaze downwards, avoiding the facts standing there, staring at you right in the face.
A thin layer of dust settles in the empty room. Still and undisturbed. As if a lifetime has passed in the blink of an eye, even though Danny left about a month ago. His presence has already begun to wane in his own home.
Quiet whimpers shake your body, you wrap your arms around you tightly. Clinging onto the remnants of your makeshift family. Your body rocks back and forth as you hug yourself tighter, like sand through fingers, they fade from your memory. A fog fills your head, it’s only the reminder that you’re standing in Danny’s room that you cling onto your family.
A single teardrop jolts you out of your exhausted mind. You blankly stare as more and more tears drop, rhythmically splattering on your skin. You weren’t sure you could cry anymore. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry when Danny left.
A quiet, eerie creak pulls you out your stupor once more. A darkness enshrouds you, your eyes throb in dull pain, forcing you to keep them closed shut.
Another creak.
You survey the room again through bleary eyes. You slowly, mechanically move in one direction, your soles plant firmly on the floor. Rigid muscles that refuse to loosen keep your limbs locked in place. Your shoes shuffle loudly on the wooden floorboards. The darkness follows you wherever you go, just on the edge of your vision.
You aren’t sure why you’re doing this. You find yourself facing the empty doorway, directly across from the bed frame behind you. You breathe deeply, the fresh air clears your throat, and it floods with emotion.
Half shuttered eyes linger on the door, as if you expect Danny to walk through any moment.
Your hand becomes a fist, it quivers with suppressed emotion. You take a few steps back, as far from the door as possible. You continue to stare at it in spite of the reality.
The back of your legs meets the angled, metal edges of the bed frame. Pain tingles up your legs. It's only then you realize the strength fades from your body. You remain upright because you know you'll have an uncomfortable landing on the metal frame behind you if you give in.
Tense quiet looms over you. Your body tilts as you choke down more whimpers, a grin split across your face. Your eyes sting with fresh tears, your breath quickens. Melancholic nostalgia tugs at you, a heaviness presses down on your chest.
A bang startles you, it echoes through the empty house. You remain silent. Your eyes go from the door and peer around in search of the source. Your heart hammers in your chest, yet you remain as still as possible. You don’t want to move; your body weighs down heavily with emotion and exhaustion.
The footsteps sound throughout the home. Fast and light. You shakily breathe in a mix of relief and indignation.
A vaguely familiar voice calls out your name. You perk up with mild interest. It’s so far away and, at the same time, reaches your ears in no time at all. You wonder if whoever it is knows where you are. Not surprising considering how you’ve been behaving in the last month.
You hear your name again, louder and clearer than you can recall.
You hear the footsteps right outside the door, quick but heavy. As if whoever it was had run a marathon. You scrunch up your nose in irritation, you aren’t a small child anymore.
Goosebumps tingle down your body as the presence of another individual enters the empty bedroom, though the space seems to stretch itself out. You barely acknowledge your visitor, your mind still in another plane of consciousness. Unwilling to pull yourself back to reality and face it again.
Down below, on the dusty, creaky floorboards, a pair of white sneakers cross into the threshold of your vision. You jolt back in surprise when a pair of hands grab your shoulders, you instinctively back away. Cutting pain shoots up your legs when they thump against the wiry bed frame that rattles eerily. You shiver in discomfort as you slowly tilt your head up.
Hazel eyes, dark and smooth skin, and thick, curly brown hair that seamlessly blend with orange and yellow. Valerie Gray stares down at you, brows crinkle and lips tight with worry. She breathes heavily, clearly, she was seeking you out.
The two of you stare at each other for several seconds, her hands never loosen their grip. Like you’ll disappear again if she does.
Then, finally, Valerie breaks the silence first. “I knew I’d find you here.”
Spoken all in one breath. You wonder if she ran across town looking for you.
“Yeah, well…” you mumble out, sounding not all that caring.
Valerie lightens her grip, but not so much so that you can slip away. She takes a step back with her arms straight and firm.
“You know coming here isn’t gonna bring him back, right?” She asks lightly.
You shrug your shoulders. They’re heavy, even with or without Valerie’s hands there. Your muscles must be sore, or perhaps a phantom weight of other things that can’t quite physically touch you. You inhale shakily, a familiar motion wells up inside you, uncomfortably twisting and pulling at you. You involuntarily inhale again, this time through your nose. It’s loud and rough, like a sniffle.
“Come on, moping around’s not gonna help you.” Valerie says with one of her brows rising.
You stay silent, your head dips back down to avoid eye contact. Too emotionally worn to argue with her, to expend your energy on anything else other than grief. Your body sways forwards as Valerie tugs on your shoulders, pulling you towards her. Your feet automatically shuffle along the floorboards.
You slowly trudge out of the bedroom, head hardly tilting to look around one last time. Empty, an odd sense of serenity that settles where memories used to be. A shadow seeps on to the edge of your vision, as if blotting out any remnant of this house. You try not to think about it, but you fear forgetting them if you leave. That’s why you keep coming back here, no matter how much it hurts.
Fresh, cool evening air blows across your skin and through your hair as you finally step outside. You violently shiver, even though it isn’t that cold, as it’s only mid-spring. Your eyes squeeze themselves shut again, your face tight with emotion. You and Valerie go down the stone steps, onto the street. You wobble slightly, you might as well be stepping into the void and falling.
Falling and falling.
You blearily open your eyes. Dull light streaks through the makeshift shutters, cutting through the darkness. Same as always. You have limited time until it fades again, in spite of what time of day it may be. Not that you can tell anymore, it’s been so long. It was necessary in order to survive a somewhat barren world.
You heft yourself up to your feet. Your body is inexplicably heavy, even with how thin you are. Your chest itches with curiosity at why that could be. In a moment of clarity, you get the sense that someone is missing. Like they should be here, right next to you.
You don’t have anyone. Haven’t for many years at this point. Your family all but gone, and friends who come and go faster than the supplies you have on hand. Yet, there is still that inkling of someone missing.
Breath shuddering dryly, you shake the thoughts away. The focus needs to be here and now. Namely, scrounging for supplies. You are only a single person and somehow the supplies get used up quickly. You sigh heavily, peering at the outside world in between the shutters, you’d honestly prefer not go back out there. The world out there is not the same world in your head.
Still… you’d rather feel comfortable when the end does inevitably come, as selfish as it sounds.
You make your way towards the only entrance of your shelter, retreading the same path you always walk. A neat, narrow path with surrounding junk that stack up against the walls in an orderly fashion. A path so dusty and beaten down you can see the indents of your shoes permanently etching into the floor.
After carefully weaving your way through the mess, ever so mindful to not disturb the dangerously wobbling piles, you reach the door. You don’t bother with your hands, instead using your shoulder to push it open. Better hurting your shoulder than losing a hand. With some effort, the door slowly and loudly squeaks open. The dull light glares directly at you, right into your shelter, brightly lighting it up.
You stumble forward when the door swings open, tripping over your own feet. Your hands splay out to keep yourself from falling, they plant themselves firmly on the ground. They make an indent into the dirt underneath, soft and dry. Your arms quiver from the force of the impact, but you’re proud that you didn’t accidentally hurt yourself.
Inhaling deeply, you scrunch up your nose at the dryness. It’s thick and suffocating, it makes your throat scratchy and taste like chalk. Forcefully coughing to ease the disgusting sensation, you cover your face and slowly stand upright.
You start walking, your legs carry you in spite of the harsh landscape. Everything may have been reduced to rubble, you still mostly remember where everything once was.
Your wandering takes you to a wide, deserted road. Crumbling remains of buildings lie on all sides. Few cars lay in abandon, twisting heaps of metal. They are few and far in between, cars became a rare commodity at this point in time.
You head to the side of the street. Amongst the ruins, few buildings remain upright. They’re technically classed ‘unsafe’ since they’re in danger of collapsing. It’s not like the fallen debris was any better either, environmental hazards and whatnot. A cracking, grimy sign hangs above a storefront that was only in partial collapse. A hardware store, you smile slightly at the sense of irony.
Broken windows in the front with cracking foundations, the fractures streak around the stone like a spider’s web. Twisting and spiralling to consume the space it claims.
Approaching the doors, you hesitate before you enter. Past the doors, back into the darkness again.
The hardware store is in an even worse state than your little shelter ever could be. Shattered glass crunches under your shoes, bits and pieces of tools and equipment rattle about as you try to navigate your way through the mess. It’s tightly cluttered and, dare you think it, claustrophobia inducing. The further you move into the shop, the more faint the outside lights become, the massive wave of junk swallowing it up.
Nothing of note gets your attention. Far too messy, you doubt you’ll find anything of use before the daylight fades. Anything that would’ve been useful is in discernible pieces scattered throughout the shop. You kick your feet at the piles of scrap, dust flies up into the air in a grey cloud. Metal clatters loudly, clashing with each other and onto the floor.
The shop is a complete dud. Looting and ransacking beyond your comprehension. You should’ve expected it; desperate times call for desperate measures.
At first, you turn towards the front with a falter in your step. You don’t want this to be all for nothing, have that crushing feeling weigh down on you. Your jaw becomes stiff and you set your shoulders. You lean backward with a look-up at the cracked ceiling, the ground level is only the hardware shop itself, the upper levels are either living quarters or offices. Chances are that the looters didn’t bother wasting time and energy exploring the upside.
You trudge through the remains, the silence disrupted by the occasional clinking of broken bits and pieces. It doesn’t matter how careful you are, there’s always something crunching underfoot. It doesn’t help that you’re farther away from the entrance, it’s much darker in the back, to the point of obscurity. The most you can see are silhouettes.
In the back of the store, there isn’t much to look at. Twisting spires and mangled heaps that were once the shelves are thrown about, spiny pieces of metal glitter dangerously in the faint light. One wrong move and you’re done for. The walls are oddly clean and intact. The looters must’ve really thought there was nothing of value beyond this point.
What really gets your attention is the singular door all in its lonesome in the corner. Dark grey and made of steel, it’s windowless with the only indicator is the sign above it. A long dead battery powered sign with the symbol of a staircase plastered on it. There is nothing else of note to it, you find it odd.
You approach it anyway. Who knows? You might find something after all.
The door handle isn’t particularly complex. Just twist and turn, it pops open. Your hands sting with effort from the metallic rim of the awkwardly placed handle. You hear something creak and crank loudly from the other side, the steel door shivers in its place. You are forced to step back as the extremity of the door flings itself open.
A rush of cool but musty air blows through you. The other side reveals… a staircase. A metallic pretzel winding in one direction. All the way up to the roof, encasing itself in complete pitch black with walls that close in a narrow path.
Once you step past the steel door, a groaning clang makes you jump with a foreboding sensation that you are stuck. Your heart accelerates and you hold your breath. The door’s only handle is on the outside, the inside is nothing but gears and cables that operate it.
The only way out is up, it’s not like you have a choice.
Even with the mounting tension that you could very well be stuck in here forever, you attempt to keep yourself steady that you might find something at the top. It’s… getting there that’s the hard part.
You let yourself fall back against the door. You breathe heavily, as if you’re fuelling the mental energy to do it. Your heart thumps against your chest, pulsing blood through you. Numbing goosebumps crawl down your body.
With trepidation, you place one foot on the first step. A ringing rattle echoes through the darkness. The structure shivers ominously, but remains firm. Exhaling softly with cautious relief, you bring your other foot forward. Both of your hands clutch the railing to keep yourself upright. The metal vibrates intensely under you, your legs bend in response. You crumple slightly, weak all of a sudden.
Shakily breathing, you hang off of one of the railings, your body slumps against the high-rise guardrails. Your hand stubbornly curls around the cylindrical girth of the railing. Straining the muscles in your arms with effort, you slowly pull yourself up. You grip the rails more tightly to stay standing. Beneath you, your knees quiver and nearly buckle with the phantom sensation of the floor becoming soft.
One step at a time. That’s all it takes, one after the other. The staircase still rattles dangerously, however, you keep your cool. The ground below slowly vanishes the higher you go up. You never did take into account how tall the building actually is.
You know for sure the stairs will take you straight to the roof. You don’t know when you’ll get there, it’s perpetually pitch-black no matter how high up you are. Step after step, you try not to think about it, otherwise you’ll lose your focus. You waver slightly, the black swallows up everything around it, you have just the railing to guide you.
Every step prompts you to take a breath. Breathe. In and out.
You reach the very top with little fanfare. It may be dark, you have that inkling deep in your gut, you just know. Your legs are tense with anticipation and numb from the impromptu exercise session the stairs give you. Your chest moves in rapid succession with how fast you’re panting.
Reaching out in front of you, a smooth, steel surface greets the palm of your hand. Your hand trails along the surface, tiny grains of dry paint painlessly scrape your skin. It’s soothing in a way.
Your hand finds the doorknob, grasping around it like it’s a lifeline. You flex your fingers to be certain it’s actually there. The knob twists around, you hear a squeak.
You exhale in relief with a small, wry smile. Your chest becomes taut with apprehension. You feel silly for accomplishing something incredibly basic. You sigh and push the door open, it groans loudly from years of disuse. The familiar gust of a chalky tasting dryness blows directly into your face.
After a bout of harsh coughing, you focus on the view before you. Flat and open, still empty as ever. The receding rays of light indicate to you, it’s not going to last for much longer. It’s haunting, a dead and grey city with its last remnants of life sucking from it. The rays reflecting off of the windows are little sparks of life left, they too fade, the strings too weak to hold it.
Then, in the corner of your eye, you swear you see something move. Just a shadow, maybe, but in this world, nothing is what it seems. Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart accelerates, you move not even an inch.
Several minutes pass without incident. You peer from the corner of your eye again; a shadowy blur is still on the edge of your vision. It hasn’t moved at all.
You glance around, shadows cast by the walls and the tall ventilation shafts do provide cover. There are wide stretches of complete exposure, however. You’d have to quickly dart between them. It’s not much, but as long as you lie low, you won’t be seen.
In fleeting, a thought passes through your mind. You stiffen with realization. Shuffling to the nearest wall, you press yourself against it. Your body still turns in the direction where you saw the shadowy blur moving. You don’t know if it’s human or a ghost. The thought has your hands turn into fists and press into the brick wall.
No use running away now. You might as well find out. Edging as close as you can to the corner of the wall, you lean just far enough to get a quick glimpse. Right there, on the very edge, you spot a humanoid silhouette. You sense a faint energy around it.
An ice-cold blanket covers your body. An overwhelming sensation weighs down on you, your head inexplicably aches with emotion. You breathe deeply to steady yourself, careful to do so quietly so that the ghost doesn’t hear you. For now, it seems like the ghost isn’t even aware you’re nearby.
A few minutes and nothing. Instead, you think you hear soft sounds. A sob-like sound that chokes back, as though they’re holding back tears. You bite your lip with a flicker of uncertainty. It’s not every day you come across a ghost in such an emotional state.
Curiosity blooms in your chest, nagging at you the longer you stand there. It… couldn’t hurt to check out this ghost. They might not even be hostile.
You edge your way towards the corner of the wall. Your body slides along the rugged brick surface, the lumps and sharp edges dig into you. The discomfort travels up to your throat, sickly fulfilling, and you feel you can’t breathe. The wariness crawls down your body like a cobweb being spun around you, a disgusting, sticky sensation settles onto your exposed skin. A sense of coldness makes itself known, your skin clammy. You anxiously flex your fingers and rub your hands together.
Why do you feel so… afraid? Afraid of what you might find?
First, you inch yourself around the corner, if only to get a visual. The silhouette is still there, still as a statue. Viciously quashing down any doubts that attempt to halt you in your tracks, you hold your breath as you slowly put one-foot forwards. Your other foot follows, step after step, in a monotonous rhythm.
Stepping out of the shadow of the wall, you feel very naked. You can’t stop yourself now, your legs move on auto. Quiet footsteps fill the stillness. The silhouette grows in size the closer you get. You get the impression they’re actually taller than you initially think. The oddly familiar black and white form crouches over, a long, shrouding cape wraps around the figure.
Their face is hidden by their hands. Snowy white hair flows like a flame from their head, snapping and crackling loudly with whatever this ghost was feeling. Oddly specific, but you do know this particular shade of white.
A thought worms into your mind. It’s a slim possibility, though you can’t help it. That same feeling of someone missing in your life.
Rattling metal shatters the silence. A pile of scrap scatters around the cement, you never even saw it was there. You jump back; a gasp catches in your throat. Your body tenses and vibrating courses through you, an unpleasant metallic taste floods your throat. Your limbs violently quiver, some part of you screams at you to turn and run. Your heart vigorously pounds your chest, sickly hot rushes through you as an overload of blood pumps through your body.
Just a few feet away, the figure finally perks up for the first time. Slowly standing up while the hands remove themselves, you find yourself staring at a pair of piercing red eyes. Eerily glowing in the grey haze. You still hardly make out the face.
The figure slowly walks towards you, you hear the soft thuds of deliberately heavy footsteps. You feel you’re glued to the spot, trembling with adrenaline, and yet you can’t make yourself move. Little by little, the figure’s face unveils in the barely perceptible light. For a second, you think you recognize the angular facial shape and sturdy jaw.
Your legs weaken in apprehension, your throat swells and fills with emotion, yet you’re firmly stuck to the spot. You watch in silent agitation as the figure comes closer. The details grow more and apparent to you. Your throat burns with words you want to ask, you stay quiet.
The heavy aura that presses down on you greets you with the visual of a painfully recognizable emblem. Your eyes wander up further to a face you’d recognize anywhere. Your heart skips a beat, or two, while shock rushes down your body like cold water. A name catches on your tongue, you don’t have the energy to say it.
The red eyes that stare you down slowly widen in surprise, a flash of familiarity flickers through them. His mouth moves without sound before he tenses his jaw. Sharp fangs glint faintly in the pale light.
Restless silence seemingly stretches on for hours, not a word from either of you. In actuality, it’s only been a few minutes. Then, a deep, not quite familiar voice speaks.
“Why are you still here?” He looks down at you, brows lightly creasing.
The phrase rings in your head. You heard it many a time before. It plays like a song, you never tire of it. Your breath hitches, your heart jumps to your throat.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You challenge quietly.
Your limbs jitter with emotion, numbing and fulfilling at the same time. You’re sure of it now. The anticipation you feel coursing through you is unlike anything you felt beforehand. A cluster of warmth forms in your body, blooming with emotions you hide deep down. It surges to the forefront in full force.
Without thinking, you leap forward with your arms stretching out. They latch around his body; your fingers instinctively intertwine. You tighten your hold, this is him for certain.
You feel him grow still, then stiffen. Like he didn’t expect you to hug him. He says your name, low and rough.
You slightly tilt your head. You’d rather keep your face hidden, your eyes sting with fresh tears.
“You’re not scared of me?” He asks incredulously.
“Of you?” You repeat with a loud sniffle. “Don’t be silly, I could never be scared of my own brother.”
A pair of hands hold your shoulders. You then realize just how cold they are, how cold he actually is. The hands squeeze, as if he’s uncertain whether to push you away or not.
“Da-” you start, for him to sharply cut you off.
“I’m not him anymore,” he says, fangs baring. “I’m not who you once knew.”
Before you can reply, he firmly pushes you to the side and walks away. You stand by in complete shock as his form begins to fade back into the darkness. Your head snaps in his direction, your heart hammers in terror.
You can’t-
You can’t lose him again.
“Just like when you thought we’d leave you because you weren’t human anymore?” You state boldly.
He abruptly stops, his form stiller than a statue. Just like before. His shoulders strain with the amount of force he applies to his hands. They ball up into tight fists, shivering. His head bends back a little, his face crunches in frustration and a sliver of amusement.
You stare at him, eyes wide and tingling with unshed tears. You hold your breath, unwilling to break your focus. That he’ll be gone in a blink if it does.
He turns back around on his heel, eyes hard, and stare right into your soul. You exhale shakily and hastily blink your eyes. Wetness pools in the corner of your eyes, disrupting the view of a dark shape coming towards you. You pay little mind; your breath quickens and grows shakier with each intake.
Hands hold your shoulders and direct you somewhere, your sense of direction is dull. Your legs move without protest. There is still a lot you still need to take in and process.
Your body settles down to something sturdy, relaxing with your legs swaying about from a ledge. You sit back with your arms behind you, you still breathe shakily. Every breath seems to draw out the tears. They slowly drip down your face, the streaks drying as soon as they form. You’re faintly aware of someone sitting next to you, silent and comforting.
The persistently unfamiliar voice breaks the silence again.
“I’m surprised you don’t hate me,” he says bluntly.
You shutter your eyes to get your bearings again. They flick to the side for a quick glimpse of his visage.
“Da…” you stop yourself. If he doesn’t want you to call him ‘Danny’, then you honestly aren’t sure what to call him otherwise.
He picks up on your hesitation. “Dan.”
That doesn’t even sound like him.
“What happened to you?”
You avoid meeting his gaze, looking down at yourself. At the moment, you’re nearly glad that the grey haze obscures him from you.
“I don’t think you’d understand,” Dan says with a deep, drawn out sigh.
It strikes a chord in you. He’s still there, even if it’s just a tiny fragment. You squint your eyes for a second, hardly caring that tears continue to flow.
“You disappeared,” you say quietly.
Dan looks down at you, his eyes narrow and his body still with apprehension. The ledge you both sit on seemingly tilts. Unease makes your stomach drop. Slow, steady breaths that display immense control emit from Dan.
“After…” Dan’s voice fades. He shakes his head, eyes shut tight.
The memory of losing his family still hurts him. You lean to the side, your hand inches towards him. You want to hold him and comfort him. Dan starts again, you hastily draw your hand away from his.
“I was lost. You know, in my head. It messes with you and after a while, you… start to forget some stuff,” Dan says slowly, clearly uncertain if he wants to delve into it more. “It… numbed some pain.”
You nod along quietly, letting Dan have his moment first. You feel it’s appropriate, since this isn’t necessarily about you.
“You sure you don’t hate me?” Dan asks, ripping you from your mental musing.
“How could I?” You say, breath hitching with held back sniffles.
Your hands clench the metallic ledge tightly, it digs into your hands. You can’t let go, otherwise you may as well as be in a free fall. Your body aches with years of emotions of all kinds. Some of it is unpleasant, a hot acidic spray that burns the back of your throat. Others are deeper, reaching deep into your mind and pushes the tears to your eyes. You shrink into yourself.
Fat, slick tears stream down your face. Your body twitches in discomfort, you inhale deeply to swallow down the emotions. They drop into your stomach like lead. Your breath stutters as the uncomfortable sensation of what feels like bloating fills your stomach.
“You lost your family,” you say hoarsely. “I lost you, I lost my brother.”
Your facial muscles pull and burn as more and more tears streak down your cheeks with the intensity of a waterfall. You raise a hand to your chest, you stare blearily at it through the teardrops. Without a second thought, you throw your full weight to the side.
“I missed you, you jerk…” you croak, words and throat thick with emotion.
Dan grunts loudly in surprise when you latch onto him with a hug, he leans back to absorb the impact. Your arms are firm and secure around his neck, you exhale weakly in relief. Dan’s arms slowly wrap around your shoulders, occasionally twitchy but gentle.
He’s been silent the entire time. Words aren’t necessary.
They will be at some point.
But it’s better than nothing at all.