This Is It?

The rain falls like a million microscopic hammers on the back of my skull as I meander through the muck-lined streets of the city. The last time that I was as lucid as I am now was back when I was tracking him. The weather was the same, bleak, dreary, and wet, always wet. Soaked to the core. It never ends.

I finally see the city for what it truly is. I always knew that those living here were self-preserving bastards, but I was never really that aware of my surroundings. I mean, yes I knew what street was which and where every building was, but the fact that everything is actually shit was completely lost to me. Peeling paint, rusting frames, and crumbling brick.

Hair plasters my face as I continue to trudge through all of the mud, blood, and beer. Not actual mud, blood, and beer, but I don’t care. It could be true.

Balboa is pretty much gone. It’s been weeks. Nothing. However, I do have one final, last resort.

I don’t put much faith in soothsayers and other paranormal activity. In fact, the only thing that I put any faith in at all is the propensity for egoism that is common among all humans. Man, woman, child. White, Black, Asian, Hispanic. It does not matter. Everyone partakes. Even I used to. That was before I became enlightened.

"Do you understand now?"
"Yes."
"Very good. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going away. I'm going to embrace what you have told me. They are all unworthy, selfish, violent, indulgent swine."

And they are. Every single one of them.

So why am I going to see Madame Maureen? I'm desperate. I've suffered through the bullshit of every other member of this god-forsaken mess, I thought, why not go for all or nothing? People say that see possesses actual powers. I don't believe it, but why not try? She could have some information on Balboa.

The grainy streets seem to weep out of anger or despair as I stroll through the downpour, always vigilant, always alert. You never know what could happen.

Madame Maureen's shop is not far from home. The storm drains are worthless, leaving the streets flooded in the rain. I actually have to wade across an asphalt river to get to her door.

Dusty windows reveal nothing but a distorted image of the interior. No one is inside. There is a jar of money on a table next to a loaf of bread. Odd. She's usually in at this time of day. She must have given up. I haven't seen any people around the shop for days. Business must be slow. Serves her right. Horrible work. Horrible work that I am in need of.

Looked everywhere. Where is she?

Last place. She must be her. Unless she's been constantly on the move, and she is back where I started.

The one bright spot of the entire city is the playground. When I say bright, I mean bright.

The newly painted slide is an attempt by the city council to improve the aesthetics of the city, drawing people in, resulting in an economic boom.

Someone is sleeping under the slide. A small figure. Looks like a mouse, frightened and reclusive.

It's her!

As I approach her, I sense that something is wrong. Any person walking by, not paying close attention would think that she is sleeping. She's not moving. She doesn't appear to be breathing.

Shit. She's dead. Goodbye Balboa.

Still warm. No pulse. Died recently.

There's some money in her pocket. Should I take it? I would use it to finally leave this place. Balboa would want that. Forget him, move on.

A new city. That is what I need. Walk away. Leave him. Leave your rock.

Nearly There

I can smell it. I’m close. Balboa is near. And the weather is going to turn nasty. I’ve had too much experience in such matters. Constant rain for weeks on end, interspersed with agony and destruction. Suitable weather for what I must do now.

So close.

I don’t get much sleep when I have to do something like this. I don’t sleep either. At first its hard, but then you get used to it. You enter a type of detached reality, where everyone and everything seems to standing still around you. So wired. Birds fly backwards. Aware of EVERYTHING.

The jungle is dangerous. Expect anything. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility. Spikes, nets, poisons. Anything. But the most dangerous thing in here is him. He killed her and now I must kill him.

But I didn’t kill him. He killed me. Then brought me back anew. Now, I’ve come to realize that he was right. I hate to admit it though.

Focus. FOCUS. Balboa. Yes.

The Food Mart. Saw the owner talking. Let’s follow those two teenagers.

He doesn’t even look up. I might as well be invisible. Check his apartment upstairs.

Nothing special. Actually kind of disgraceful.

Have to leave with those damn teenagers. They bought chips and slushies. Breakfast of champions. Still, better than some stuff that I have managed to keep in my stomach over the years. Not as healthy though. Less protein. Flavorless. Dull.

I learned a lot while following him across that hellish landscape. I’ll never go back.

Something has changed. Outside seems different somehow. Getting darker. Cloudy. Smells like rain. Perfect.

Wait a minute. WAS THAT BALBOA?!

It’s time to move.

Preparations

The time has come. I am ready. I WILL find Balboa. NO ONE will stand in my way. Not when I have this rusty, razor sharp shard of iron. They don’t need to know that I won’t actually use it. Not again. Intimidation is all that I need.The possibility of being gutted like a pig and left to die in the middle of the street is motivation enough.

The woman from the Laundromat is just the beginning. EVERYONE is in on it. I’ve seen her. Talking to those people. They could only be talking about one thing. Balboa. I’ve even followed the people she talked to and the people that they talked to. In all, every person in the entire city is part of the plot.

Now, I just have to “talk” to every single person in this city. One of them is bound to squeal.

Only I heard the gunshot. The girl collapsed in a pool of her own blood. The smirk. Anger. His blood on my hands.

I MUST save Balboa.

A crowd. Good. No one will notice one person leaving the group. Especially when they are all preoccupied with that man getting arrested. He looks familiar. Ah, he was the one on top of the bank. Thinks he’s Jesus.

Got to get one on the outskirts. Almost there. Someone is watching me. I sense it.

The sewers. A guy was watching me. I saw his eyes peeking out from underneath the manhole over. He looks diseased. How long has he been watching me?

He’s one of their spies. Why else would he live in the sewer? The quickest way to travel in the city. No worries about traffic, road work, or construction.

I have to be careful now. Make sure he doesn’t follow me. Should be easy enough.

Must find him. He killed her. The damn smirk. Evil. She did nothing. Good. I thought. He destroyed everything. He opened my eyes. I truly saw the world for the first time.

I am prepared. I know now. Balboa. I’m coming.

Stupid Criminals

It’s been days. Where is Balboa? He wouldn’t leave on his own. Someone must have abducted him. But who?

Wait a minute. That woman over there. I have seen her here before, a few days ago. Oh… that’s a mistake. Returning to the scene of the crime. No one ever said that criminals were smart. I have to do something. I have to question her.

She looks scared. All I did was ask her why.

Great. Now she’s running. Come back here, NOW!

It’s still somewhat chilly. I could take or leave the air rushing past my face.

A gunshot?

He stands over me with her blood on his hands. That smirk plastered on his face will stay with me to my dying day.

What happened? Where’d she go?

The door to the laundromat just slammed shut. I missed her? At least I know where she lives now.

What do we have here? The police seem to be arresting someone at The Jaguar. Why are people making such a big deal about this guy?

I have planning to do. I have to find Balboa. But first, I must get to know my enemy. Her movements might give away the location of Balboa.

She will regret the day that she crossed me.

I will find him.

To Arms, Men! To Arms!

At least it’s not snowing anymore. I find a sense of relief in days following snow days. It’s cold, but not too cold. There is a SMALL part of me that actually enjoys days like this one. These days are contradictions. There is sunlight everywhere, but it’s cold. Sunny days are supposed to be warm. Hah! Contradiction and complexity drives the world.

A good day deserves a good meal.

There is still some ice on the ground. That could be the source of some quality entertainment later on. Sirens? Wait… no.

A man riding a bike almost crashes due to the ice, and starts to curse and shout something about fish. Fish!

It has begun. The Revolution. They are coming. We must prepare. The only one who seems aware of it besides me appears to be the angry man on the bicycle. Everyone else is with THEM. THEY must be defeated.

Home. Balboa. He’ll help. Look at all the people that don’t care. At last. Home. WHERE’S BALBOA?!

THEY are coming…

Snow

It’s snowing. Waking up in the snow is never fun. By my count, I have woken up in the snow a total of 42 times in the last year. The frozen grass that populates the lot shines like a thousand diamonds in the early morning light.

Now that it is properly light out, I should find something to eat. I always find some treats in the woods by the old church.

Acorns and leaves have a distinct taste, and it is not for everyone. I would eat meat, but most of the wild animals in the city, like squirrels, seemed to have left. Maybe they are smarter than we give them credit.

Wow. Mushrooms. A delicacy. Well, at least a delicacy by my terms. A bit sour. Then savory. Overall, delicious. Although, there is a funny aftertaste.

A man with a golden beard walks out of one of the trees and tells me to do what he says. I trust him completely, even though I have no idea who he is. He finishes his speech and leaves as quickly as he appeared, leaving me there alone in the woods.

There are a lot of roaches out today. They seem to be trying to find someplace warm. A stream of them is flowing into the coffee shop, no doubt attracted by all of the steaming hot coffee makers.

Sitting there is that blind locksmith, Jacen, and his dog. Him having that dog is a shame. People do not appreciate what God has given them. He has made some people blind for a reason, and they see it as a disability, trying to overcome it by having some poor animal lead them everywhere.

I’m back in my lot. It’s about 6 in the evening. Whoa. Darkness. All the lights have gone out. People are screaming and shouting in anger at the lights. That will not do any good. Screaming will not make them come back on. You just have to wait.

The lights are back on. It has been two hours. Hopefully now everyone will shut up. The lights going out are part of His plan, and the sooner they realize that, the better.

Why does there have to be a title?

Oh, it’s cold. This isn’t fun. I don’t like waking up cold. But then again, maybe I do. It doesn’t matter.

It’s still dark. Huh. That’s a good thing. Darkness allows me to do what I need to do in peace. Right now, I need to find something. I’m glad most of the city is still asleep.

At least I found the food I was looking for. It wasn’t the best-tasting thing in the world, but at least it was food. Balboa really helped me.

The sun is coming up. A lot of people consider this to be a beautiful moment. I have seen countless sunrises, and every time I feel nothing special; I don’t find myself moved or changed in any way. A sunrise signals the start of a new day, and every day I get closer and closer to death.

There are those run-down shacks that they call townhouses. Monuments from a time that is long gone. I wonder who’s awake. Wait, why do I care?

I HATE ALL OF THE PEOPLE IN THIS CITY.