The City of Evil
Seize The Day.
III. Seize The Day
Days, they fly by if you don’t watch them. One moment you’re here, the next you’re there. Live life to the fullest, goes the old saying. And don’t look back.
A small lamp lit up the tiny room, which was furbished by a shabby second hand couch, a small end table, and a chair that matched the couch. Placed through out the room were other odds and ends, things they had ended up finding while out thrift shopping together, the cheap price of the antiques catching their attention.
A blonde sat in the middle of the couch, head in hands, one hand running long, slender fingers through the short blonde locks. He took a deep breath and exhaled back, trying to clear his mind. He stared right at his feet, which were covered with ratty yellow converse. He scuffed the toe against the hard wood floor, letting the rubber squeak against it slightly.
He had flinched when the man right next door kicked open his door, again. He always did that, and it was highly annoying. Even more annoying was yelling that was going on in the same apartment. Not everyone wanted to hear a couple’s arguments about how something or another was all a huge mistake. Oh, there went the door again, and then a hard pounding on the wood. The blonde flinched again, closing his eyes, his heavy brows knitted together. It all reminded him so well...
“Look, babe.. I,” the blonde stumbled over the words, trying to get them correct. “I think we just need a little break, that’s all.” He stepped towards the girl, who was starting to cry on sofa. She shook her head, and he stopped in his tracks. “It’s not that I don’t love you anymore.” he offered.
“Then what is it?!” The other blonde choked out finally.
“It’s..”
“The fact that you don’t love me anymore!” the blonde looked up, angry tears now welling up in her eyes. “You probably never have, and couldn’t wait until you were able to finally do this. I was just some booty call to you!” She stood up, and grabbed her coat and keys from the table, and headed out towards the door.
He caught up to her at the door, his hand resting gently on the wood, keeping her from opening it. “Please, don’t go. That’s not what I’m trying to say.”
She removed his hand from the door, quietly sniffing back tears. “Save it, Tom. I know exactly what you’re trying to say.” She gave him one last look, a look of pain on her pale face. “Bye, Tom.” She left the apartment quickly, leaving him standing in the doorframe.
“Maryssa!” he called out to her, but had no such luck.
Tom could never forget that day. It was like a permanent memory in his head, and no matter what would happen, it would still be there. It haunted him, in his sleep, in his daily life. He wanted so bad to fix it, but he knew that he never could. She was long gone, like a freight train rushing away down the tracks. Gone like yesterday, gone like all the good things that are never coming back.
It felt like only yesterday, that right before he climbed into bed, wiping at his tear stained eyes, that he got the call. When he answered, he was met with uncontrollable sobbing, and when he finally managed to calm the girl down, the news that she gave him was that of something that he wasn’t ready to hear. Maryssa, the girl.. woman, he loved, had been taken from them by a horrible automobile accident.
After putting the phone down, Tom let go all of the tears that had built up inside of his small frame all day. He hardly slept that night, and instead of going into work the next morning, he called in sick; the first time since he started the job. He didn’t go out of the house, staying in bed all day and only getting up briefly to rummage through his kitchen to find something to eat and head back to his room, or use the toilet.
After two days of this act, he finally decided to get up and do something, knowing full well that how he was acting would never get him anywhere. He trudged downstairs, in nothing but his pajama bottoms, not caring how people would look or stare at him, to gather up his mail from the past three days. As he filed down the flights of stairs slowly, the same blonde that lived next door to him was coming up. The blonde looked at Tom, his own eyes expressionless and tired. Tom nodded and the boy gave a jerk of the head back to him, rushing up the stairs.
In the lobby of the apartment building, Tom fiddled with the lock on his mailbox. When he got it open, he grabbed the dozen or so items that were stuffed into the small compartment. He flipped through them, determining which ones were trash and which ones weren’t. On his way back this his apartment, he found a card from Maryssa’s family, inviting him to attend the funeral ceremony. His breathing caught in his throat when he read the card. It still wasn’t real to him at all.
The next day he was caught up looking at himself in the mirror, straightening out the red checkered tie he decided on wearing. Out of all the ties that he had, he owned not one black tie. Something that I need to get, he thought, as he buttoned up his jacket. He gave himself one more good look in the mirror, and sighed, his brown eyes large and full of memory.
He felt terrible for letting it end that way. Without her knowing how exactly he felt. He did, indeed love her, he had always loved her, straight from the beginning.
Seize the day. Or you’ll die regretting the time that was lost before you. That time is the most important, don’t let it slip away.
Days, they fly by if you don’t watch them. One moment you’re here, the next you’re there. Live life to the fullest, goes the old saying. And don’t look back.
A small lamp lit up the tiny room, which was furbished by a shabby second hand couch, a small end table, and a chair that matched the couch. Placed through out the room were other odds and ends, things they had ended up finding while out thrift shopping together, the cheap price of the antiques catching their attention.
A blonde sat in the middle of the couch, head in hands, one hand running long, slender fingers through the short blonde locks. He took a deep breath and exhaled back, trying to clear his mind. He stared right at his feet, which were covered with ratty yellow converse. He scuffed the toe against the hard wood floor, letting the rubber squeak against it slightly.
He had flinched when the man right next door kicked open his door, again. He always did that, and it was highly annoying. Even more annoying was yelling that was going on in the same apartment. Not everyone wanted to hear a couple’s arguments about how something or another was all a huge mistake. Oh, there went the door again, and then a hard pounding on the wood. The blonde flinched again, closing his eyes, his heavy brows knitted together. It all reminded him so well...
“Look, babe.. I,” the blonde stumbled over the words, trying to get them correct. “I think we just need a little break, that’s all.” He stepped towards the girl, who was starting to cry on sofa. She shook her head, and he stopped in his tracks. “It’s not that I don’t love you anymore.” he offered.
“Then what is it?!” The other blonde choked out finally.
“It’s..”
“The fact that you don’t love me anymore!” the blonde looked up, angry tears now welling up in her eyes. “You probably never have, and couldn’t wait until you were able to finally do this. I was just some booty call to you!” She stood up, and grabbed her coat and keys from the table, and headed out towards the door.
He caught up to her at the door, his hand resting gently on the wood, keeping her from opening it. “Please, don’t go. That’s not what I’m trying to say.”
She removed his hand from the door, quietly sniffing back tears. “Save it, Tom. I know exactly what you’re trying to say.” She gave him one last look, a look of pain on her pale face. “Bye, Tom.” She left the apartment quickly, leaving him standing in the doorframe.
“Maryssa!” he called out to her, but had no such luck.
Tom could never forget that day. It was like a permanent memory in his head, and no matter what would happen, it would still be there. It haunted him, in his sleep, in his daily life. He wanted so bad to fix it, but he knew that he never could. She was long gone, like a freight train rushing away down the tracks. Gone like yesterday, gone like all the good things that are never coming back.
It felt like only yesterday, that right before he climbed into bed, wiping at his tear stained eyes, that he got the call. When he answered, he was met with uncontrollable sobbing, and when he finally managed to calm the girl down, the news that she gave him was that of something that he wasn’t ready to hear. Maryssa, the girl.. woman, he loved, had been taken from them by a horrible automobile accident.
After putting the phone down, Tom let go all of the tears that had built up inside of his small frame all day. He hardly slept that night, and instead of going into work the next morning, he called in sick; the first time since he started the job. He didn’t go out of the house, staying in bed all day and only getting up briefly to rummage through his kitchen to find something to eat and head back to his room, or use the toilet.
After two days of this act, he finally decided to get up and do something, knowing full well that how he was acting would never get him anywhere. He trudged downstairs, in nothing but his pajama bottoms, not caring how people would look or stare at him, to gather up his mail from the past three days. As he filed down the flights of stairs slowly, the same blonde that lived next door to him was coming up. The blonde looked at Tom, his own eyes expressionless and tired. Tom nodded and the boy gave a jerk of the head back to him, rushing up the stairs.
In the lobby of the apartment building, Tom fiddled with the lock on his mailbox. When he got it open, he grabbed the dozen or so items that were stuffed into the small compartment. He flipped through them, determining which ones were trash and which ones weren’t. On his way back this his apartment, he found a card from Maryssa’s family, inviting him to attend the funeral ceremony. His breathing caught in his throat when he read the card. It still wasn’t real to him at all.
The next day he was caught up looking at himself in the mirror, straightening out the red checkered tie he decided on wearing. Out of all the ties that he had, he owned not one black tie. Something that I need to get, he thought, as he buttoned up his jacket. He gave himself one more good look in the mirror, and sighed, his brown eyes large and full of memory.
He felt terrible for letting it end that way. Without her knowing how exactly he felt. He did, indeed love her, he had always loved her, straight from the beginning.
Seize the day. Or you’ll die regretting the time that was lost before you. That time is the most important, don’t let it slip away.