Vice City : The Bud

Chapter 5 - A Week Of Waiting

Authors Note - please be kind, I'm not a professional writer I do this as a hobby - Leave a vote/comment if you enjoy as every little bit helps

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Chapter5 - The Bud - A Week Of Waiting

Withthe gentle wisp of the winter's wind at my back I make my way downthe crisscross streets. Every house and every abode is dark andlifeless. This is the abandoned southern corner of Vice City's vastexpanse. Distinguishable from the rest of the city only by the lackof light coming from the smoggy windows. It has been such a long timesince I last walked these roads. In some ways it has remained muchthe same as I recall from my childhood. Like the broken glass thathas always dusted the corners of the sidewalk. In other ways it seemslike an all new place. Even the misfortunate who used to beg on theshop doorsteps have deserted this place to the unforgiving decay. Itake my time, treating this as a scenic route down my forgottenmemories. Every step is a new view into what this place has become. Agust forces me to pull the top of my jacket up but I don't let thecold quicken my pace. I truly want to experience all that thisreminiscing can provide. I move to one side avoiding the remains of acouch and then have to step over a pile of what once may have beenclothes that have, over time, melded into one heaped bundle. I thinkagain of times gone past. Which of these places had I spentafternoons playing at ? I continue on as there are other questions Iwant answered and the night is racing on.

Witha sudden pause, my feet stop me. I'm here again. Murrow Street. Thelane that has starred in a rather vivid and disturbing encounter withmy past. The sight of my old house at the end of the cul-de-sac isalmost reason enough for me to turn away.

Ibegin towards it, ignoring all the yelling voices in my head, theircurses falling on deafened ears. Past the other houses with theircrumbling walls. Their once white picket fences now yellowed andsmashed to pieces. What long ago could have been the beautiful urbanyards are dry and dead. Patchy grass covers the rotting earth withbrown dismay. And I smile. To see this place, this street, my house,in such a state as this is it brings a literal tear to my eye. Thishell shaped me to be who I am today. It brought me so much pain. Isincerely doubt you can understand the consequences of what went onhere. If you do, then I applaud you, as you should applaud me. Ireach the house at the end of the road. It faces the exit of thestreet, and every taunting view I had as a child. It temped me withits idealistic notions of freedom. A freedom I could not reach, notas long as Mum and Jeremy needed protecting from the blind drunkswings of my father.

Myheart pounds in my chest as I question my logic in coming here. Thiscould be another in a long list of mistakes that have led me to thispoint. I can't help but let the tears fall from my eyes. I wish tostop them but can't, as the shadowed house beckons me inside. Withmy courage waning I step through a hole in the fence.

Walkinginside the front door a force of wind nearly sweeps me back and for apanicked second it reminds me of the way my father's yell wouldknock me off my feet. But I'm stronger now, not so easily takendown. Inside there is nothing that remains intact. Holes in thefloor, ripped chairs and shards of glass are everywhere.

"Somuch is gone," I say to the dust.

Andthis true. A few things in each room remain. Anything that cannot besalvaged stays to fall apart. I look around further and find littleleft in this place I once called my home. I do find sheets andsleeping bags which suggests that the house once belonged to thehomeless. I leave it all where it is, I'm no thief after all, andsolemnly I turn my attention to the upper floor. I take my timeascending the stairs, wary of every creak that follows my footsteps.Every moment here I think of the time I spent with Mum and Jeremy,and that alone brings a sense of melancholy to the happiness I hadfirst felt when seeing this building in ruins. Their hauntingreflections plead to me at every shimmer of a reflection I pass.