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There was a storm outside.
The wind blew, the rain poured down, there was the low rumble of thunder and brief flashes of lightning.
The building’s exterior was barely holding together. Patches of paint missing. A few random roof tiles were gone. The once brightly colored sign has faded greatly over time and was barely visible. Posters that were once along the walls had long since been torn off, either by people or weather. The colorful drawings put on the windows were also gone, and most of the windows were boarded up from the outside.
Inside the building wasn’t much better.
Tables and chairs were scattered about or knocked over. Old boxes and containers sat in place for so long, they were stuck to each other, the floor, or even part of the walls. Dust covered everything from top to bottom. There were still bits of broken glass by some of the windows. People that threw rocks at them before the boards went up. But they didn’t care to clean up the glass that was inside the building, just wanted to stop tempting people to vandalize further or even break into the building.
Not like there were many people looking to break in. A couple stupid kids early on, but no one else has come by for a real attempt.
He heard them. That was years and years ago. The sound of glass breaking and then footsteps walking about inside. They probably touched a couple things and tried to grab something to take out as proof they did venture inside. Maybe they did grab something. They were barely here for five minutes.
Even through the wall, he could just barely make out their voices. Two of them, talking back and forth. They walked about, and then eventually they ran back to the same window they broke to get in and left.
It was silent after they left. Then some time later, maybe about a month later was when the boards went up. More glass was broken before then, but it didn’t sound like anyone came inside. They just wanted to break the windows for fun.
Once the boards went up though, it was silent. He heard nothing. No life of any kind came to this building. Maybe there have been people here and there that did come by. But they stayed outside. He can imagine some curious people, or maybe people that used to come here as kids decided to stop by for nostalgic reasons. Just driving into the parking lot, stopping their car and looking at the building. Maybe took pictures. They might be aware of the various stories and rumors, but it wasn’t enough to stop them from coming here. But none of them were curious enough to try to break into the building.
Of course, he had no proof of any of this. Was just his guess. But he knew enough about how people think. How adults would wish they were kids again. Innocent little ones that truly had no worries. A bully at school, homework, detention. Adults would take those things in a heartbeat compared to the real struggles they face now.
It was truly ironic. Kids would have no patience and want to be grown ups as soon as possible. They believed with age came power. And while they’re not wrong, there’s so many things that come with being an adult, most of them don’t realize that until they actually grow up. And then as an adult, they would wish to be kids again.
People wish for things they don’t have. People wish for things they used to have.
A child standing alone by the prize counter, staring up at the plushies. The child lured away into a back room with one of the plushies. A pair of parents grieving over their lost child and wishing they were back home safe and sound.
He scoffed, leaning his head back to bang against the wall, the metal clanging.
He closed his eyes and listened. The rain and wind and thunder that was outside. It was all he heard these days. It was soothing, compared to the silence.
Brief flashes would happen though. Every time. Hearing the rain and the wind. He’s standing outside the building. He sees her. He walks up to her, the green bracelet slowly flashing on her wrist. She’s getting all wet from the rain. He makes a suggestion, and she follows him to the back of the building.
A quick motion is all it takes. She lays among the trash.
The sound of a car honking snaps him back into reality.
There’s a car outside. Why did it honk?
He waits and listens. But he doesn’t hear anything besides the wind and rain. Was he just imagining it? More time passes and he sighed heavily. Maybe he did. If there possibly was someone outside, then they didn’t try to break in.
He feels something. The air has shifted slightly. He’s not alone.
Shadows in front of him move and a white face appears floating not far from him.
“You,” he mutters, his voice raspy and grating like old metal.
The whole form appears now, the large lanky marionette simply floats there, the mask looking at him and at nothing.
“Something will change soon.” She speaks, her voice barely a whisper but he can hear it clearly.
“How do you know that?” He adjusts one of his arms, raising it to point at her. His arm trembles and moves stiffly.
“Because I watch.” She answers, motioning with an arm towards him. “Tomorrow will be different. But I wanted to come here to ask you a simple question. Two questions. Do you have any idea how long it’s been? How long you’ve been here?”
He scoffs, lowering his arm and waving his hand dismissively. “Years. A couple of decades. That’s my best guess. Not being able to see anything beyond these walls makes you lose track of time pretty easily.”
The marionette is quiet for a minute. “My second question is; do you have any regrets?”
He pauses, for some reason the question caught him off guard. But then he leans his head back and the suit’s mouth opens and creaks as he laughs. A loud and hoarse laugh that echoes in the small room.
“Regrets?” He scoffs again. “After all this time, however long it’s been, you know what one thing I’ve felt regret for?” He quickly smacks his hand on his knee, the metal on metal contact causing a ringing sound. “I regret climbing into this stupid suit and being stuck to it this entire time. It might be my rotten corpse in a mental container, but also this IS me. The suit is a part of me now, and I hate it. It hurts. Each time I move even a little bit, I feel it. It constantly digs into me, it’s constantly crushing me. I might be long dead, but I’m also alive; enough to feel this stupid hunk of metal every single second.”
She stares at him. Since the face is a mask, the expression does not change in any way. She simply stares and is quiet for a minute.
“You are not wrong in believing years have passed. You were off by one. It has been three decades.”
He flinches. Three? It’s really been that long? That sounds correct, but…hearing the actual number…it turned in his head slowly. He huffs. “Shit.”
“Something will change soon,” she repeats. “And we will be there with you.”
“What?”
The marionette then floats backwards, back into the darkness of the room. The air is quiet and still. He’s alone again.
He sighs. What does she mean by that? Is someone actually going to finally tear this building down or something? If it’s been thirty years…then it’s possible someone out there is planning something. Tear this down and build up some sort of new establishment. Or maybe even this entire area will go under construction, a giant lot of land to be properly flattened and build up a shopping mall or something.
It was possible.
But what did “we will be there with you” mean? He couldn’t figure it out.
For the first time in a very long while…he was looking forward to tomorrow. Whatever it is that will be happening soon, it’ll be something DIFFERENT. That’s all he wanted, even if it meant he gets buried underneath some rumble. He would welcome it.
He sighs again, closing his eyes. It’s still raining outside. He could focus on the sound of it now.
The green bracelet continues to glow and dim slowly. A small green light reflecting off the blood on the ground. He clutches the knife tighter and quickly leaves the area.
There’s more to do. He’s not done yet.