Second Chances

The Rust Of The Damned

I remember the first person I had tried to speak to. He had looked like he was in his mid thirties, hair thinning at the top. An ugly green top covering his chubby torso, ragged blue joggers and dirty trainers filling the rest of his attire. Must of died on a jog. I look at him, but he couldn't look at me. "Samantha... Declan... James... Peter... Samantha... Declan... James... Peter..." He kept saying these names like some kind of mantra, no matter how much I tried to make him say something else. To acknowledge my existence. The second guy, a well groomed man in a business suit, wasn't better. He was running back and forth, between a street lamp and a public garbage bin. He was sweating profusely, yet he didn't stop. I tried to get him to speak, but he kept muttering in his own dialect. Sounded German, maybe Russian. Then there was a third, and a forth, a fifth and so on. Soon, I lost count. I had kept walking through this continuous hell like earth, unable to fathom if these beings are even real people or just a part of my broken mind.

Then I was standing in front of a park swing, the chain creaking loudly. Rust surrounding the chain link, the now fragile metal threatening to break in the breeze. I looked behind me and, as I expected, saw Arduous. His skeletal frame towering over me. His pitiless eyes as emotionless as ever. I do nothing, just lean against the fence. Arduous says nothing as well. He points behind me, a tremor slowly going up my legs and spreading throughout my body. My blood grew cold. I slowly turn behind me, to see Francine, my girlfriend, and me. Sharing the breaking swing, I lean forward, wanting to see one of my few happy moments closer. To relive it. To stay.

"So. What pet should we get?" Francine had said. We were planning on moving in together now that we were both in college. We had been together since early Secondary school, year eight. Not once had we broke up, not once had one of us said the famous words, 'I think we need a break.' We were happily, and deeply, in love. Past Randy had thought for a moment, then spoke. "Why not a dog?" Francine shook her head, her hair brushing against past Randy's' face. "Nope, dogs don't like me. A cat?" She says, innocently. Past Randy does an over exaggerated sigh. "Fiiine. But you have to buy the cat litter." Francine had cheered, hugging the past Randy's neck tightly. I smiled, wistful. I glance back at Arduous. "Why are you showing me this?" Arduous thought for a moment. Then, through his disgusted look, I don't believe he liked the conclusion he came to. "I believe that, despite how disgraceful and not to mention sickening the thought is," He paused and stood next to me, looking at my memory in a sort of awe. Maybe... envy. "That I felt that telling you that your entire life is bad would lying." He pulled a grim face when he said the word felt. Like he was a child looking at a plate full of Brussel sprouts or whatever food they didn't like. "I despise lies more than you selfish creatures." Arduous quickly steps away from me, turning away. He clicked his fingers and Francine disappeared along with past me. I sigh, closing my eyes. When I open them, I saw pass me again, a fresh out of school sixteen year old. Hugging the deceptive b***h of a sister.

"Why do you want to go, Randy?!" She was crying into my shoulder while I cradled her in my arms, softly hugging her. Past Randy's head resting on hers. "You know why. I can't stand your mum and dad and they can't stand me." She looks up at him, tears still falling. A little stream of snot beginning at her nostril. Her lip quivering. "But you'll be leaving me with them. Alone!" She cried even harder, again burying her face in his chest. "I don't want to be alone!" Past Randy lifted her head so that he could look her in the eye. Past Randy gave her a reassuring smile. "I promise, I'll visit as much as I can. You won't be alone, Jess." And visit I did. At least once or twice a month, maybe more. Every time I visited, she made sure I was with her one hundred percent of the time, always in her sight. If she had her way, I probably would of been surgically attached to her at a young age. I shake my head. If only I had spent this time with Francine, maybe she wouldn't of looked at me like that when I was executed. Maybe she would of given me a chance. Maybe the last time she saw me, she wouldn't of looked at me like a monster.