The dead do not matter

She looked up at the night sky, trying for one moment to avoid the artificial glare of the city lights that surrounded her, but the penetrating lights had followed her gaze up in between the clouds. The red sky hung over the top of the buildings, like a heavy drape that stretched as far as she could see.

She dropped her gaze as the busy street slid back into view. A passerby looked at her as he walked past, curious of her actions. She stared back, holding her gaze until the man was forced to look away in embarrassment. The man walked away hurriedly, turning back to look at her every few paces, a quizzical look on his face. Finally, he lost interest and went on his way. Alice followed his back with her eyes.

What a weird guy.

She dropped her cigarette and put it out with her foot, then quickly moved out of the walkway as many people were rushing past her, headed towards their homes.

She looked over at the busy street that ran alongside the river. Once, this part of the city had been relatively empty, with a few medium sized buildings and a flowing river with some vegetation on the banks. After the new office complex had been constructed, and the metro excavated, the whole place had been transformed. Suddenly, thousands of commuters filled the sidewalk in front of the shops hurriedly and walking to their destination, a steady stream of cars darkened the sky with waste, and what was once a quiet and dark corner, had become a restless, sprawling expansion of lights and voices that was active well into the night and beyond.

She walked towards the river, where huge bastions of cement had been raised to constrict and control the tides of the waters. The lower part of the embankments was only slightly higher than the water level, so that someone may still walk near the surface; but no one was there now.

She remembered that she used to play on the riverbank with her siblings and occasionally take a dip in the cool waters, but her pastime had been ended swiftly a few years later. Huge machines were brought to the riverbanks and when the operations began the excavators tore the trees by their roots, as nests and burrows were demolished by shovels. And what had once been a shelter for wildlife had been enclosed in a steel and cement prison.

She looked on at the winding dead river, and managed to spot a few weak fish searching for food in the shallow ends.

Lifeless and dead, like everything here.

She found the small, steep steps that connected the road to the river down below. She hadn't been down there in a while.

She reached the bottom after a slow descent, the sounds of traffic dimming away, but never disappearing. As she took the last few steps she noticed the cement was worn and cracked in many places, where weeds had started to sprout, no doubt enlarging the faults even more. No one troubled themselves enough to provide any sort of maintenance. And no one had really troubled themselves greatly with the place's appearance either. The grey facade of the embankment was as dull as it was ugly; deep seams running through them at regular intervals all along the river, some sections left crumbling and exposing the wall to even more damage.

The pale walls almost looked bright near the dark sludge of the river, beneath which no riverbed could be seen. A coat of oil and foam covered the surface like a sickly soup bitter to the eye and to the nose. The whole place reeked of rotting matter. No wonder no one came here anymore.

She walked a few minutes upstream, trying to remember if she had ever been in this particular section as a child. A vague memory started to form in her head of a clear sky and crying seagulls, but then started to fade away almost instantly, as her attention was rapt by the sharp odor that fouled the air. She desperately clung to the image, trying to make it resurface. But her thoughts took a path of their own, and would barge in, interrupting her efforts. She took a few steps back, and retraced the few steps she took upstream when the thought had come to her. But the sensation had almost completely faded, and all she was left with was defeat.

No use chasing what has been lost already.

Clinging to some scarce memory was not going to help her. She sighed and stepped up to the edge of the bank, looking downstream.

The lights of the city flickered, broken on the river's surface, on top of the red of the sky, poking in between the tall buildings and disturbed only by some large ripples. She could almost imagine that's what the river would have looked like during a carnival, when those were still being held in this district.

She looked up at the tall buildings encroaching on the steady stream of the river. No care had been given to harmonize them with the river, or indeed each other. Residential buildings were mixed with hotels and offices, so that former shone brightly onto the latter's cold dark glass surfaces.

She slid her gaze off the offices onto the apartments. The whole apartment barely fit into her view for how close it was to the embankment. She scanned the floors until she reached the bottom. Almost every room was lit and alive with people, at least as far as she could see. She could make out the movements of an arguing couple, their expressions hidden behind the lights, but the flailing of their arms clear for all to see. The movement was repeated, and she watched until she could clearly distinguish the two from each other. One was clearly upset about something, the other was apologetic and defensive. The discussion was getting heated, but not enough, it seemed, to break into violence. Maybe they were the peaceful type.

She wondered.

How many times had those arms been raised in anger? Maybe a hundred times, and a hundred more yet to come. How many times were such hands being raised in the apartment, how many in the city, the whole country?

Too many to count, too many experiences, all different, but that would ultimately end up the same; short, forgotten, insignificant.

Like her.

Everything she had done until now, every breath and step she had taken will not have mattered. The hard work she put in everyday did not matter, no more than all the disagreements in the country combined, and even if she died, and her family grieved over her, it would come to mean nothing in the end, because as much as the rest of the world was concerned, she was already dead; worse, she had never even existed.

She fumbled for another cigarette in her pockets. Still a few left. Good.

She looked at the waters as she smoked. The torrid vortices twisted and turned around a few rocks jutting out of the surface.

'I can't stay dead for much longer'.

She smiled at her own words for how clumsy they sounded. She had someone to care for, and a job to do tomorrow. No use indulging herself in childish thoughts like these; it was just a waste of time.

She turned towards the busy road once more. She could still hear the sounds of traffic spilling over the edge of the embankments.

Time to go.

She flicked the cigarette in the water, andwalked up the stairs without glancing back.