I barely processed each street as I automatically turned onto it. Living in Titan for your entire lifetime can turn any person into a street-memorising automaton. I know these parts like the back of my hand. The citizen living areas are closely knit, with two metre wide alleys beneath seemingly kilometre high apartment blocks.
I always wondered if I could touch the stars from the penthouse when I was younger. Of course, science doesn't limit the imagination when you're a child.
I had just left the housing area. In a megalopolis, houses were extremely rare. I'd barely seen more than twenty houses in the entirety of Titan. Ben was the proud citizen of arguably the biggest house in Titan, that thing had turrets. It was all down to his father, the notorious Cecil Brook: the king of organised crime. His immunity to pretty much any punishment for his crimes made his power undeniable. As the CEO of C-Brook, the biggest AI company in all of Titan, Cecil was probably drowning in money. Why he had to turn to petty crime as well was beyond my capability of understanding. I supposed that it was the power, the knowledge that Brook had control over every single criminal in Titan, petty or not. In conclusion, Cecil Brook was the top person in Titan you wouldn't want to mess with.
It would be a few more kilometres before I reached my apartment on the outskirts of Titan Old Town. From my window on the 30th floor, I could see Big Ben, its stone getting more and more elderly as time went on. Cracks in the surface were like wrinkles, the bent structure like an old man with a bad back. The ancient structure was supported by two large metal poles extending the entirety of the indoors to stop it toppling over like many other monuments had. I wondered what it looked in its prime time, when it wasn't slightly green from acid rain and when the clock still chimed over what would've then been called London.
I liked to imagine what it would've been like, perhaps a century ago. Would the Shard still be standing then? A giant statue of glass, refracting the sunlight in every direction. I wondered if it would cast rainbows across the floors of the offices. It was like a giant diamond, like the ones on the hairpin. Or was it more like the mirror shard?
A century later and the light was blocked out. The first twenty floors of flats rarely received sunlight and at night, the alleys were pitch black. I was suddenly thankful for the floodlight lampposts that stood watch, eliminating the shadows that would otherwise lurk like a feral thing in corners.
I wonder what it would be like to see the stars? It had been only a few years since they had disappeared completely from the sky. Our light pollution had stolen away the natural light Mother Nature gifted us: light battling light. I wondered if the stars still existed or if they had all died out long ago. I always countered myself: just because you can't see something, doesn't mean its not there. That restored hope, the thought that maybe the stars weren't so beyond reach after all. To me, the stars were merely a galaxy of invisible ink, scrawled across the sky.
The chill had worsened, a draught worming through the alley. I shuddered, reaching for my mask. My hand brushed the shard in my pocket. It was only then that I realised that Ben had never asked for it back. Surely a foolish mistake, giving someone you could barely know an illegal weapon. I shrugged it off, locking in as much warmth as I could get with the security of the mask. I tugged my hoodie back up for good measure and placed my hands in my full pockets, careful not to stab myself with the shard. I picked up my pace, my knees becoming stiff with cold and my aching feet begging me to hurry getting home.
I was lost in my thoughts, trying to remember what a hot shower felt like or a hot chocolate, when I heard a shout.
"Stop!"
I froze in my tracks. Not literally but I might as have done. I hoped whoever it was, they'd hurry up with whatever they wanted. I wanted to banish the cold and sleep. Frankly, I was more concerned about my warm bed and the comfort of my cat Mary to really be concerned about what was happening.
Slowly, I turned around, never allowing myself to show signs of fear.
My heart skipped a beat when I beheld the policeman standing just over three feet away.
He was dressed in the standard Titan uniform: the green ventilating mask with a voice changer, the matching green hat that concealed the eyes and the rest of the face above the mask and the floor length green trench coat. With organised crime being at an all time high, police at least needed to protect their identity. After the Weapons Act of 2104, the public voted for all weapons, including kitchen knives, to be eradicated. This, of course, made a policeman's job much harder. With no defence, Police Academies had begun to accept 12 year olds, training them in combat or martial arts as a replacement. This meant that nowadays, fully-trained policemen could be younger than me. It was impossible to tell this one's age but one thing was for sure judging by his determined stance, he wasn't going to let me go easily.
"Yes, officer?" I said innocently, lowering my voice as much as possible to conceal my actual voice. It was unlikely that they were looking for me specifically. I racked my brain. Someone nearby had probably reported several young boys in black masks and black hoodies climbing in through a window. Unfortunately, the mask and hoodie I now wore were my downfall as well as my protection.
"You're under arrest for suspicion of armed robbery." This one's voice changer was eerily low-pitched, sending chills down my spine.
I peered subtly behind his shoulder, spying that he'd brought no backup, foolish really. "Armed robbery?" I tried. "How could I possibly be armed if weapons have been eradicated?"
"Come with me peacefully or I'll have no option but to use force."
"Where's your proof, that I'm your culprit?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you."
"You're no help, are you?" I sighed. It looked like I would have no other option.
I racked my brain for any other possible option, any way that I could avoid what I had to do. The mirror shard suddenly felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket, itching to be used.
I slowly walked over to the policeman, my hands above my head. The policeman walked forward to greet me, producing a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.
"It's a pity, throwing away your life this early." The policeman murmured as he secured one handcuff tightly around my wrist.
I detached myself from my body, letting the adrenaline-charged villain in me take over.
"Maybe it's not my life I'm throwing away."
Rapidly, I brandished the mirror shard, not giving the man time to even process what was happening before I plunged the makeshift weapon into his side.
He let out a shout of pain, horrifically distorted by the voice changer.
For some reason, I decided to look down. Look down at the reflection of the mirror shard.
The reflection showed the other man's face beneath his hat: green eyes wide in pain and a tear streaking down his cheek. Those eyes would haunt me for the rest of my life…
They were eyes I recognised.
Letting out a cry of shock, I stumbled backwards, tripping over myself and falling hard on the pavement. As I battled to breathe, shock and disbelief coursed through me over and over in waves. Soon I would drown.
"It can't be… it can't be…"
The person I now recognised fell to his knees.
There was blood on my hands.
Back then, I thought this was it. I thought my world had ended.
My gravity had been disrupted, my oxygen stolen, my surroundings distorted by the intense distress clawing through me.
I began to stumble away from him. I needed to get away. In a moment like that, the worst moment of my life, I was selfish. I left him to die; I left the only person on this entire planet who cared about me to die.
I was sprinting now in a blind panic, my legs failing to work, my ankles twisting beneath me and breaths coming out in great sobs. I didn't recognise any of the streets now, it all blurred together in a kaleidoscope of mundane colours.
The ground eventually came to meet me. Pathetically, I gripped my side as if I had been stabbed myself. It may as well have been myself: my mirror, the only person who understood me.
The ground beneath me shattered like glass.
Painfully bright light consumed my vision. So bright it was like the sun had engulfed the earth.
The last thing I saw before everything shattered was his blood on my hands.