May Sickness: 1

Chapter 1

            A downpour of despair fell upon the city, that city so full of sin, that city so selfish. Torrents of depravity endlessly falling to the cesspool that lay below.  The rain washed away any morality and any virtue that may have clung to the skyscrapers which they, so proud, built. It washed away any hope that remained under bridges and tucked away in alleyways. Optimistic vagabonds dampen by the saliva of a million mouths from the heavens. Mouths that smile upon the lucky, the prosperous, but spit on the down trotted and poor. 

            It was a city where people died just as much as they lived. More tears fell for the absence o a television show than that of a child. Hundreds of people died each year, there, and dozens disappeared, but regardless the majority did not care. Crime has no effect on the majority, but the poor individuals that are victims only seek justice. They want revenge and when that option in inaccessible anger envelopes then. Rage.

            A canopy of umbrellas concealed the pavement below. Those umbrellas were carried in the hands of the masses, drones fresh off a never ending assembly line. The drones, so afraid that the droplets of  precipitation might cause a short circuit, clench those umbrellas and continue to march toward their meaningless professions.

            The sound of the rain drops smacking against the material of the umbrella added to the noise pollution. Car horns and motors, foot steps, people yelling, just a large conglomerate of noise.

            People speak of concrete jungles but rarely do they mention asphalt swamps. That’s what was, it smelt of shit and and burnt rubber. Pollution was a staple of that city. The air was polluted by the exhaust of the countless cars, as well as by the smug assholes that lived there. It would be harder to find a better example of a polluted populas.

            But none the less it was a perfect example of human engineering. Two and half centuries old, it was a major port and modernized well. However none of this matters. It offers nothing except to a shining representation of how bad humans can be.

            Marvelous skyscrapers, days that the sun shined rays would reflect off the countless planes of glass. But that day only the slightest slivers could find there way through the pitch black clouds, not enough for them to meet the windows. But those that live in that city...

            Each with a different complaint, but with all the same meaning. Some with their minds set on fulfilling their sexual desires. One man thought, I hope I get laid tonight; while another, with eyes transfixed on a woman’s posterior, thought, look at that bitch’s ass. With all the rest contemplating on the most common of man’s sins. The things I’d do with a million bucks, a man longed for great wealth, in contrast is a woman with more modest yearnings; damn I wish I had some money. Still the thoughts of some were not sustained to their minds. They voiced their wants, needs, and empty justifications through their cellular phones. They held the phones with such care one would think they were holding infants.

            “Babe, I know I was late last night, but I’ll make it up to you.” I’ll make it up to you, a tawdry excuse to mask a night of adultery, along with other corruptions of the soul. An addiction to the pleasures of the flesh lead men and women, alike, to hurt those who care most for them. The most troubling aspect of this corruption is the loss of trust. Pure selfishness, never content with what is given.

            “I’m going to need an extension on that loan… yeah another one.” A man, fearing for his own safety, sacrifices his pride and dignity. Felt-covered tables were his ruin, forcing him to live in his deplorable situation. A pathetic man with a complete lack of self discipline. Worthless, no redeeming factors. And as his predicament would show, no luck.

            “Sir, I’ve been in lower management for so long please I need a raise, a promotion, anything.” A brave, feeble coward, asserts himself, grovels at the feet of a man. The feet of a man that holds no real power. No particular or superior physical attribute; his intellect is not on par with the Greats. The man only holds scraps of paper, dyed green, covered in seemingly meaningless symbols. What real value could a slip of paper really hold? That man’s true power is to feed the avarice, the greed, of his fellow man.

            And it goes on each one different, but each with the same meaning. Ingrates with pathetic lives just waiting for the end, having it all in hand, given every opportunity but they pissed it away. It appears that anything but a pessimistic view on society is impossible; but with the world being so clouded in darkness the flickers of light, the truly righteous of humanity is that much easier to find. They are a perfect representation of the majority.

In the streets cars drove by, wheels ran through puddles, splashing water on those afoot on the sidewalks. Not even one shakes a fist in anger as they stand there, water dripping from their clothes, gawking obtusely at one another. Most have a natural disposition towards violence, but once a man is broken they become a slave to meekness and to the rules of their world, as well as the arbitrary customs they are to live by.

            Taxis were everywhere, rows of yellow moving in either direction, occasionally stopping to pick up new passengers. Their exhaust polluted the air and made the it difficult to breath. Escape the rain and pay a hefty fee or walk. Avarice or sloth, in the eyes of a devout there is no winning. Luckily not many think that way... but there are some that do.

            The sky was a blanket of ash gray with masses of deep black, a few rays of light shown through, enough to give some light to the day.

            From within the crowd one woman stood out. All the others, exact carbon copies of the last, with the next losing more and more of their individuality, but she was unique. Her foot steps were not in synchronous with the others. In a sea of black and gray, a bright yellow sun dress draped over her voluptuous body. An odd choice for such a day. The tapering of the dress pays complements to her form. Her face, sweet and compassionate, free of the hollow cheeks or seared lips of an amphetamine dependent whore. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, some down her back, and some down over her breast. It was the color of gold and appeared to glow. Could she have been an angel, a divine being sent to this wrenched world, that depraved city as a beam of hope and humanity?

            From the corner of her eye the woman saw the silhouette of a body. In the alley, perpendicular to the sidewalk, a shadow sat rocking back-and-forth against the wall. She stood there; staring, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley, the light of the sun being blocked by the two buildings on either side. She saw that under the filth of an old blanket, soaked by the rain, sat a boy and a girl.

            In the darkness the boy turned, his face toward the street, and glanced at her. The crowd continued to progress, but as the woman stood in their way. They merely changed course and navigated around her and returned to their original route. Much like a stone in the course of a rive, she did nothing to effect the current of the crowd.

            Their eyes met, his-to-hers and hers-to-his. Malicious and ill nature thoughts began to arrange within the woman’s mind; Damn dirty little bastard. I bet you won’t make it through the night… good! One less piece of trash in the world. In disgust the woman turned her head and spat. A glob of saliva and mucus fell to the ground, just as another droplet of rain. The mass of yellow and white hit one of the many puddles, creating a ripple then sinking.

            The woman turned and walked away, out of the view of the alley and pass the corner of the building’s wall and out of sight. A stuck up bitch. Plain and simple. One that wishes to break the norm or create a false identity. A false form of individuality.

            As she walked from his field of vision the boy looked toward the ground. Someone so low in this world looking down... such was that he saw... the lowest sight ever seen by man. His shoes worn down from countless hours of walking throughout the city. His feet were positioned in a puddle, with water seeping through his shoes several holes, but he did not care. If he were to move he might wake her. He looked at the girl’s beautiful face as she laid asleep; her head buried in his chest, the disgusting blanket draped over her with only her head and some of her shoulder showing.

            The boy had no thoughts of malice toward the women that had just showed so much disdain toward him, he was fine with where he was. The troubles of the world, the civil unrest in far off land, the political climate in his own nation or any of that other shit that people seem so eager to preoccupy themselves with meant nothing to him.

Her compassionate face, so kind and sweet; her beautiful hair, so brilliant and perfect; and her body so attractive, they were just a facade. They were just a skin covering her ugly being, a vessel holding her rotting innards. She was no angel, just one of the other six-billion-and-some-odd others that were the same. There may be far off light in the darkness but the only light that day was dimmed by an old tattered blanket.

            The world was uncaring, full of proud sinners and meek saints. The world was dying from its past evils. The world was as it always was.

            The boy’s name was Felix, his eyes were as dark as coal; they were windows to a broken and tattered soul. His hair was just as dark, unkempt, with clumps of hair bulging out in every direction, very much typical of a homeless child.. The rags he wore settled over his tiny frame, like they would on a hanger. The beautiful girl that lay on him was Rose. Beneath her eyelids were concealed bright blue eyes. Her long dark hair trickled over her shoulders.

            It may have been more advantageous to find some form of shelter but they were tired. They lived a hard life, always looking for food, drifting through the city. Barely sleeping. Rose had fallen asleep in Felixs arms well before the rains came and when they did the water did not bother her enough to wake her. And with her content, Felix was as well. 

            The rain did not let up and the darkness that engulfed the alley was ever present.

            “So man, what’s your plans for tonight?” Came the high pitched voice of a man.

            “You know, hang out, bang my old lady, you know the same old.” A second voice, also that of a man’s. His voice was deep, in contrast to the others.

            “I’ll probably just lie on the couch, beat off and fall asleep.”

            “I hear that, you poor bastard.” The other man said with a chuckle.

            From deep within the depths and shadows of the alleyway emerged two men. They were shabby, wearing clothes that were several sizes too large. They both wore large hooded sweat shirts, with pockets along the abdominal section of the shirt. Both had there hands in their shirt pockets. The one that spoke in a deep voice wore a black shirt, while the other wore a gray shirt.

            Two men with wrecked heart and evil intentions. It is not known why such men exist, but what is know is the atrocities they commit. Such atrocities that are all too common and such evil men that all to often never see the punishment they deserve. Before the days end the sin count for the world of man shall increase undoubtedly, as it always does.

            They walked in the direction of Felix and Rose unnoticed. But that ignorance was short lived, and the two men saw them.

            As they approached and saw the two lying there and cut their conversation short, making no further noise.

            When they were within an arms length but by that time it was far too late for Felix to react…

            The one wearing black’s hand came from his pocket, revealing a gun; a small thirty-eight caliber revolver. The other man seized Rose by the hair, pulling her from Felix. She awoke, thrashing her legs and rapidly looking this way and that way to try to figure out what was happening. Rose’s eyes darting back and forth, she examined everything, every detail. The rain hitting the ground, the cars driving by, the blanket at Felix’s feet, everything.

Felix scrambled to his feet. The man pointed the gun at him. He stood there, staring down the barrel of a gun. There he was, in a grimy alley, in a wretched city, his life about to end, the woman he loves a captive to some living piece of shit. And yet as his world was coming to an end everyone else’s world was continuing, completely ignoring the sins that where happening before their very eyes.

A car’s horn went off in the distance, but it was just a contributor to the noise pollution, as was countless people laughing, quite loudly, in some of the near by restaurants.

Rose let out a blood curdling scream, “Help me!” A chill went down Felixs spine, he had never heard her scream so loud. Her jaw dropped so low it might have even dislocated.

            “Well man,” said the one in gray, “we sure do have a fine bitch here, don’t we.” He ran the back of his hand across Rose’s cheek, tears wet his fingers. He then grabbed her shirt and pulled with her breast falling out.

            “Hell yeah! She hardly looks dirty. Still man, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t trust that pussy.” The one in black replied, turning his head to look at his partner, neglecting Felix.

            “No shit Sherlock! What are you stupid? I got a condom.” With his free hand the man patted his right back pocket.

            The one in gray had his fingers tangled in Rose’s hair. She desperately held on to his wrist to help relieve the strain her body was putting on each of her hair follicles. Tears flowed from her eyes and down her face. What’s going on? She thought through the waves of pain, she could not hear the conversation that was taking place just feet a way. But Felix heard it all, even with a gun aimed at him, he did not think about his fate, he only cared for the safety of the one he loved.

            “Please me! Felix please help! Someone please do something!” Rose cried. Complete and utter terror. She had never know such fear. A feeling of complete helplessness and being trapped, like a lamb that see’s the butcher’s knife before it’s slaughtered. Again she yelled, “Please help me!”

            The man jerked her violently, “Shut your fucking mouth you little cunt! Ain’t no one gonna help you.” He pointed at the crowd, “Look!”

            “I’ll fucking kill you.” Felix mumbled.

            “What was that?” The gunman asked, “What the fuck could a little fuck like you possibly do?” He then laughed.

            Passers-by on the street could hear Rose’s screams, they could see the gun pointed at Felix. They knew what was happening and what would happen. That man has a gun, what can I do? I have children that depend on me, a woman looked away and continued to walk. Surely some one will help that girl. Unfortunately the true nature of some showed its self in the form of truly disturbing thoughts. Damn I left my camera at home, God damn it, the disappointment of one, with not being able to later feed his twisted desires. I’ll get my ass thrown in jail if the police come and see me watching, I hope someone has a camera! The hopes of another, with reliance that other like minded, morally deprived, individuals might capture the moment for eternity. Damn, this is going to be so hot, and the simple, disturbing, thought of a true reprobate.     

            “Don’t you fucking dare hurt her you pieces of shit!” Felix yelled then he looked over his shoulder at the crowd. “You fucking people! Do something!” They stood and looked back at him. Within the crowd there were whispers. There is no deeper pain, no greater terror than seeing the woman you love in just a ghastly situation. Her innocence moments away from being taken...

            “I said shut your fucking mouth!” He brandished the gun once more, “Rob, show that little slut...” His partner interrupted him. He angrily looked back again paying Felix no heed. 

            “I know, shut the hell up!” Rob, the man holding Rose ran a knife a cross her face leaving a deep cut. She yelled. Blood  ran down her cheek, mixing with her tears.

            I need to do something... I love her. I can’t lose her. God fucking damn it! If only I was stronger and could do something. Felix thought. He started to cry, everything in his world was about to leave him. Rose was his world, his love and his only family.

            Standing there, without away to assist her, Felix could only utter, “Please don’t.” in a barely audible tone. Two words, filled with such pain and so much despair…