The End

“I’m not sure how long I wander through the city.”

All Fall Down By Ally Carter (Page 150)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m not sure how long I wander through the city. I’ve never been good with time. Moments seem to blur together as I attempt to piece my life together. I love being in cities. They have always given me a sense of closeness. I find them intriguing. So many people walking by. So many people with different places to go. And you may never see any of them again. You may never think of them again. Sometimes, it feels like they don’t even see me. They are conscious enough to not walk into me, but it feels like their eyes never fully take me in. That’s how you tell the people who live here from the ones who are new. That’s how you tell the curious from the determined. People who have lived here for a while or who work here don’t seem to realize the beauty of their home. They don’t seem to realize how easy it is to meet someone who can change your life if you just take the time to look. This place seems to have lost its magic for me. I remember walking around the city having trouble keeping my eyes from looking up at all the beautiful buildings. I guess you get used to it all after a while.

Today is a life-changing day. I can feel it in the air. Things are going to get better. They have to. They can’t exactly get worse. I get on the subway and take the last available seat. I have to sit between a very large woman and a man whose beard is so long, I’m sure he has never trimmed it. It could be worse. It has been worse. I think this is another sign things are finally looking up. I’m ready to change my routines. If everything goes according to plan, this will be the last time I ever have to take the subway. It will be the last time I ever have to deal with the smell and the mess. Although I will be thankful to be rid of these things, I am more thankful to be set free from the people.

I remember when I was young, my eyes filled with life and my heart begging for love. I had just moved here. I remember planning on being a writer. I remember sitting in the park for hours just observing people. On my way home at the end of the day, I would watch the people on the subway. Many of them were the same every day. They were the only constant people in this city life. So, I picked a few and started watching more carefully. I wrote stories about who they were and where they came from. Unfortunately, though, life had other plans for me. No one wants to read made up stories about average people. I had to give up on writing. It’s just the way life goes. I lost interest in the people. If no one wants to read about them, why should I bother figuring out who they are? Many of them have changed since I first came from here. There are very few of the original people. I’m not sure what happened to everyone else. I have been here so long. They probably just had the idea to get out of this place before I did. I wonder if anyone observes me. I wonder if they’ll notice when I leave. I wonder if they’ll try to figure out where I went.

I’ve noticed over the past few years that I have become one of the people who doesn’t take others in completely. I just glance past everyone as if they aren’t even there. I have no room in my brain for new faces. There’s no time to let people who won’t affect my life take up my day. I have more important things to do. Like figuring out where I’m going. I know I’m not staying here. There’s no way. I packed my things this morning. There isn’t much I want to bring with me. It all fit in my car perfectly. No matter where I end up, I know I want to start over. I don’t need anything from this life carrying over. I don’t need anything holding me down.

It’s almost my stop. I don’t even need to listen to the intercom anymore to know. I know exactly how long the ride is when there are no unusual stops.

I see a flash of light. The subway stops. This can’t be good. This has never happened before. Maybe I don’t need to leave this city to see something new after all. Everyone sits in an unsettling silence. After a while, some people start whispering nervously. No one knows what’s going on. I’m waiting to hear the strong, reassuring voice of the intercom. It’s the first time I’ve actually wanted to hear him speak. He never does.

After a few minutes of waiting, there’s another flash. This one shakes the ground. People are becoming restless now. No one knows what to do. It’s too loud. I can’t think. Everyone is panicking. I find a place on the wall to focus on. I won’t give in to the panic. I will remain calm.

Another flash. And another. The ground shakes more and more with every one. The people who were standing are now sitting on the floor, unable to stand without falling over.

There is one more flash. Then it’s over. I hear myself scream although I don’t remember opening my mouth. I’m not in control of my body. I can’t feel anything. All I can hear is screaming. Then, once again, there is nothing. I’m not sure what’s worse. Hearing the suffering or knowing it has only stopped because there’s no one left to suffer.

Well, I think to myself, this is one way to get out of the city.