- Joined
- Apr 21, 2005
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- 35
Chapter One: Angst
Desmond Kismet Tynie sat silently in the doorway of his second floor apartment, legs crossed, watching his best friend's corpse swing back and forth with the breeze.
The body was suspended from the roof by a rope, attached to what had once been a fan, two feet off the ground. Nearby, a chair lay sideways, turned away from the gruesome scene as if scared to look. Aldon's blank eyes stared past Des, into the hall behind him. The thought kept running through Desmond's mind...had his friend been waiting for him? Had he wanted those last moments...
Des had lingered after work, just standing around outside, looking into the sunset. He wasn't by any means a happy man...evidently, however, his friend had been worse off then he himself. If only he'd come straight home...then maybe he could have stopped Aldon. It could have been different. Even with these thought running through his mind, a hollow, empy feeling lingered in his chest...a void, sucking all his emotion away. Loss, anger...he couldn't feel. He could only think, and only about what lay before him. The man he'd loved as a brother since they started high-school together, the one who'd always been there for him, hanging from his rooftop, mouth gaped, as if frozen trying to take his final breath.
He swallowed, and an acidic taste flooded his mouth. Even as he stared at what was left of his best friend, the relization dawned on Desmond...Aldon was all that he'd had. Without the man, Desmond was completly and utterly alone in this world.
Knowing that if he stayed here much longer, there'd be two bodies hanging from the ceiling instead of one, Desmond slowly pulled himself to his feet. His body was numb...it was almost as if someone else was moving it for him. He barely thought, and it moved on it's own. Leaving Aldon where he was, the 28-year old hurridly grabbed his keys from the floor where he'd dropped them, threw on a coat, and fled from the room, leaving the door wide open.
He was driving before he knew what had happened, almost as if he'd just skipped fowards in time, and was suddenly in his car. A frantic honking drew him back to reality, and he pulled across, put the car into park, and flicked off the ignition. Where was he going to go, anyway? What was he going to do? All he had was the apartment, and Aldon. Even the car wasn't his, it belonged to his boss.
He glanced around the street, taking in all the people strolling past, enjoying their lives. A couple walked past laughing, and anger welled up in Desmond's chest, briefly overtaking the empty feeling he simply couldn't shake.
He shook his head, letting out a whimper, and wrapped his arms tightly around himself for a second. When his frantic motion came to a rest, his gaze fell on a small building across the street, little more then a dirty door in the wall of another building. One glowing neon light was all that functioned on a sign proclaiming 'Pub'.
"What the hell..." he muttered to himself. Getting out of the car, he didn't lock it...or even close the door. He just threw the keys on the seat. If someone wanted to take it, they'd take it. He didn't care anymore.
"Hey, buddy!"
Desmond looked up from the empty glass before him, blinking and looking around the room in surprise. He was inside the bar...and it was dark outside. He couldn't remember anything after getting out of his car. The place seemed oddly familiar...It was a small space, mostly occupied by a pool table and a few tables arorund the side. He sat at a long counter making up the back wall, along with several others who looked every bit as satisfied with life as he was. Coughing, he noticed that smoke hung over most of the bar, revealed only by the flickering, dim lights.
There was a shuffling sound to his left, and another bloke sat down next to him. Raising a hand to the barkeep, the newcomer intoned "One for my friend here, right?", and another frothy glass of some unidentified liquid was shoved under Desmond's nose.
"You don't look so good, buddy..." the stranger noted dryly. Desmond nodded at his newfound friend, looking him up and down. He was a few years younger, clean-shaven, with bright blue eyes and short blonde hair, brushed backwards neatly. It'd make a sharp contrast to Desmond himself, who's shaggy brown hair fell around his face now, almost down to shoulder-length. He hadn't shaved in days, and it was starting to show.
"Yeah. My best mate commited suicide today." Desmond said simply, not knowing why he even said it. Something just told him to trust this guy. Maybe it was his cheerful look. Maybe it was just a need for someone to listen to him, no matter who it was.
"Rough..." the blonde guy commented, raising his drink to Des. Glass met glass with a soft 'chink', and suddenly, the bar seemed a whole lot emptier.
Looking around, Des couldn't see why everyone had dissapeared all of a sudden. Then, a clock in the corner of the room caught his eye. It was one in the morning. He'd lost time again. The first time...he'd simply have put it down to addrenaline. But now...three times couldn't be ignored. He couldn't have any addrenaline left in his system now. The idea burst into his head that maybe he was about to have a heart attack. He smiled slyly at the thought.
The blonde-haired stranger still sat beside him, still with glass raised. His blue eyes seemed oddly vibrant at that particular moment, almost as if they were glowing. Des blinked, and the feeling vanished.
"So, Des. It sounds like...well, nothing's really gone right in your life, has it buddy?"
Desmond blinked again. The guy kew his name...and seemed to know a lot more about him then before. What had he told to this stranger? Merely nodding, he wondered if his body would turn up, half-dismembered, in the channel he lived beside.
"Hey...what..." the stranger began, looking right into Desmond's eyes now: "What...if you could go back and change it? All of it? If someone gave you that ability...would you do it?"
A confusion overtook the obviously far-from-sober man, as his companion stared into his eyes, awaiting an answer. Go back? What the hell was he talking about.
"I...I guess..." Des muttered: "It's useless thought...can't change the past, eh mate?"
His companion grinned, and drew a small, black book from his coat, placing it on the bar before Des. Without a word, he dropped some cash by the till, and turned to walk from the room. Des pulled himself awkardly to his feet, trying to follow.
"Sit down...and read it." the stranger shot over his shoulder, with a glance back at Des: "It's everything you've ever wanted...Desmond Tynie. It's a happy ending for you."
And with that, he closed the door behind him, leaving a stunned, intoxicated man staring after him in shock.
