Hallucinations // h.s

Chapter 1

Fifty three.

It was just fifty three days in and there was only one word to wholly describe the dilapidated ruins of this now decaying world:

Dead.

The streets were barren, uprooted, and dead.

The night was a pale, dead, blue.

The cars which littered the road were dead and unmoving.

The people were also dead. Very dead. The most dead.

So as I walked through the dead street during the dead night and gazed upon the dead cars which held very dead people whose attempt to escape the dead city only brought them to their dead lives, I came to the conclusion that I was a living paradox. Here, in this beautifully tragic compilation of death, was me. I was alive, breathing, everything that acheived the status quo of a normal functioning human being. And why I was the one in the place that I was in now, I couldn't fathom. In no way, shape, or form would it come to my understanding why I, out of millions upon millions of others whom I deemed worthier of living, was here, physically unscathed and maintaining my health. I should've been wasting away as a decaying corpse--alongside my other fellow decaying corpse friends--on some isolated wasteland. But I wasn't, so I just had to accept that I was here, walking down a lifeless intersection with my trusty Swiss Army knife in one back pocket and my house keys and a packet of gum in the other.

Although the city was teeming with a sense of utter desolation, I couldn't help but admire the way the wind delicately blew against the slightly rotted trees and made the litter on the streets tumble around. In a demented sort of way, it was the most captivating thing I'd ever laid eyes on. The smoky ashes that contaminated my lungs with every breath I took reminded me of snow, lazily flowing to the ground with every breeze. The crunch of the dirty rubble on the street soothed my ears.

At the same time, it makes you wonder how everything went to shit in a matter of a few weeks.

I watched as the sun started to set across the skyline of the city, basking the sky in a warm yellow-orange color.
The darkening surroundings were telling me that night was coming and it was time for shut-eye.

And if there had to be one rule I had to live by, it would be: Never go out at night unless you enjoy the thought of being six feet under.

I hastily made my way through the intersection and out unto a larger street. The lopsided street sign that read 'Monroe Street' was plastered with filth, making it almost illegible.

While advancing with my slow, firm strides, I passed by a myriad of run down cars. The back of a Ford Escape caught my eye and I made my way to it, deciding that this was where I was going to settle down for the night. Its tinted windows prevented me from seeing into the SUV.

Once I was standing directly in front of the driver's seat door, I clutched the handle and pulled only to no avail.

"Damn it," I grumbled. There was always a fifty-fifty chance when dealing with vehicles. Half were unlocked, assuming that the trapped people made one last desperate attempt at fleeing this god forsaken mess and didn't bother to return to their car. The locked ones were much worse. Sometimes I was lucky and they were just empty. Other times luck wasn't necessarily by my side.

Finally determining that I didn't want to go fishing around for another suitable car, I picked up the nearest solid piece of scrap metal and chucked it at the window.

With a thundering crash, the window shattered. I took a step back as sharp glass pieces descended to the ground in a frenzy. When the debris was cleared, I moved again towards the gaping hole in the car.