"Dear world, my name is Ceeto…"
This was my 5th time coming up here. I initially only came to this roof looking for solitude, and it did its job. Unfortunately, as much peace as it brought me, it just wasn't enough. Today would be the last time.
I took another sip of the bottled beer I had stolen from my father. It was disgusting. But today was my last day, I want to get rid of as much of my first-times as possible. There was a half-smoked cigarette just on the side of me, I wanted to smoke the whole thing, but the burnt taste it left on my tongue was too overwhelming.
Finishing my short letter of myself and the misdeeds I had committed just moments prior, I neatly folded the paper and gently laid it on the ledge, placing my shoe above it to defend it from the heavy wind threatening to send it over.
Rising to my feet with a racing heart, I let the borders of my feet just creep a few centimeters over the edge.
My thoughts began to go back, about why I was here, doing this. About the gutless corpse of the cruel man I called my father laid out in my family apartment, waiting to be discovered.
Life is so shit. Tears threatened to escape. And feeling my nose reddening, I silently let them.
I took a look down, the streets, the lights of cars zooming were beautiful to look at from afar. And the buildings, though clearly the neighborhood of the slums compared to any major city, were pleasant to view in their own right.
With a single, last deep breath, I rose my hands to my side and raised my head, gently closing my eyes. With a slight lean forward, gravity immediately took its role.
——
"Argh! Where the fuck is it?! Where'd I put it?"
In a run down apartment. An oversized pale man resembling a pig more than he did a human ran throughout his apartment rummaging through the already cluttered mess, eagerly in search of something.
"Haha. Here it is. Muah!" Pulling a pill bottle from under the molded cushions of his couch he gave it a kiss in rejoice. Astonishingly, without any hesitation he quickly twisted the cap off and poured all of its contents into his mouth. Loud chews could be heard as he quickly stomped his way to another room.
Approaching the bed, he stared at the boy sprawled across it as his face started to redden and a brownish drool began to escape his mouth.
He quickly removed his dirty clothing, unable to hold himself back any longer. With eager steps he approached the unconscious boy. The comparison in their sizes was astonishing, where the boy was barely even half of the bed's size, the man was almost twice as large as the frame that held it, taking up almost half the space in the entire room.
With a step, he closed in on the bed, intending to make his way to undress the boy. However, an astonished look took on his expression as to his shock the boy he thought to be deceased had actually began to groggily open his eyes.
——
Death by jumping off that cursed building was an experience I imagined more times than I could count.
I always had the fear that maybe 12 stories might not kill me, that I'd then had to live with the shame of a failed suicide attempt. And the physical inability to give it another try.
I'd also imagined times where the fear that'd occur when I laid eyes on the fast approaching ground would kill me long before the impact.
But nothing happened. I felt nothing. In fact, the second my feet left that ledge, the cold wind assaulting my dry skin disappeared. As did the constant sounds of the rowdy neighborhood's bustle.
In that instant, I felt weird. It was a confusing feeling, how sudden it was. Somehow, I could myself laying on my back. Before I could even understand, I felt an itching, almost prickly feeling at my ribs, I felt weak, like I hadn't eaten or even moved for weeks.
It took far more effort to open my eyes than I'd ever thought possible. But it was of no use, I couldn't see. My other senses were much quicker to come.
A foul smell assaulted my nose, it reminded me of my middle school bathroom. A disgusting odor to say the least.
I could feel myself laying on something soft. It felt like a bed, it was comfortable, but I could feel it was what gave me the itchy feeling as I moved about.
As the rusting sound of my movement came to me, I began to pick up other sounds. Depending on my hearing as my sight was finally coming to. I couldn't hear too much initially, not until I focused. Fear immediately gripped me, there was no sounds I could recognize, just really heavy breaths.
The breaths were raspy, clearly belonging to a man. A savage one, I could hear it. I was more confused than anything.
Where the hell am I?!
I was meant to be dead. Left under the mercy of a worshipped, all-forgiving mighty god, or to burn in the depths of a fiery eternal hell. Or left in endless darkness and silence, which I hoped for more than I anything.
I attempted to sit up, my vision was mostly recovered, I could see well enough. I could barely raise my head to see ahead of me, my body felt like it was stripped of all of its strength, raising my head was all the strength I could muster.
But that was enough, oh boy, was that enough. My heart stopped, no, it felt like everything stopped. I could've died, again.
The most imposing man I had ever known was my father. The man had a rugged build and stood at 6'6", had he not been drunk out of his mind I doubt killing him would've been so simple.
The scariest thing about my father were his eyes, they were dead, in a way that made him seem possessed. It inflicted a frightful feeling within you when he stared at you with that deadpan expression of his, with eyes that only lit up when he was tearing into your flesh with a switch.
But this man. No. This monster I laid sights on, he was far beyond whatever my father was.
He stood at least 7 feet tall, his head almost touching the ceiling. He had bloodshot eyes with protruding veins on his temples that actually almost reached his eyes. His arms rested by his side, but he looked all the more imposing.
He stood there clothe-less, his body covered in large bruises and scars.
The expression I assumed to be surprise only made to darken his face, making him look so much more horrifying.
I was terrified.
W-What the fuck is that?
Before the terror that gripped my heart could settle, it increased almost tenfold as with a single long stride, the pig-like man came within inches of the bed I was on, quickly leaping onto me as his large hand the size of my head gripped my jaw, his attempt at stifling the scream I threatened to let out.
"Ack!" His weight crushed me as I bit my tongue. Yet, as the metallic taste of blood quickly filled my dry mouth, the pain was nothing in comparison to the vice grip the man had on my jaw.
Yet I fought back. Kicking my feet in hopes of throwing him off of me. Of course, it was hopless. I hurled my fists at him. It did nothing, he was too large for me to reach his face, my hands, seemed to be comparably smaller than I recalled when faced against the brute, had done nothing to the blabbers of fat on his chest.
A sickening smile appeared on his face, revealing his teeth, or the lack of them. With little effort, he gripped my wrists with just one hand and laid them above my head.
I bawled out in tears as our eyes met. He was enjoying my resistance. He was sick.
His thumb actually began to caress my cheek as he moved his face in closer, drool fell over his large lips, right onto my cheek.
But I couldn't even think of that now. My heart began to race faster than it ever had before. Threatening to burst out of my chest as I knew of what was to come. My heartbeat accelerated, I could feel my entire body begin to shake.
A heart attack? Maybe. Hopefully. Then I wouldn't have to suffer through this.
What had I done? I escaped a demon to fall into the hands of the devil. Why am I going through this? Was it because I killed that man? He was a monster though, he did not deserve to live, I did. Was I wrong?
Why? Why? Why?! WHY!
My heartbeat reached unimaginable speeds, my body was quivering at a rate so fast it seemed I'd shatter into pieces, every nerve aflame with a terror I could barely contain.
"Aaaaah!"
I'm not sure if it was in fear of the predicament I'd found myself in. Or the result of whatever physical phenomenon was happening with my body. I'd let out a shrill scream so loud it brought pain to my own ears.
I felt as if I was releasing something. The scream, though coming from my mouth, didn't feel like something I physically let out. I could feel it, it was just a sound, but I could feel it, its presence, its power.
And along with my release, the head of the man merely inches from me had exploded. My face, my mouth, bits and pieces of his head flew out everywhere as his corpse collapsed atop of me.
His weight was crushing. The scene was gruesome, not to mention questionable. But I could do nothing but lay there, ignoring the foreign blood threatening to enter my eyes as I listlessly stared at the pink star studded ceiling.