Calling Out In the Dark || Open?
August took a deep breath as he casually walked through the eerily empty streets of Manhattan. The only reason they were empty was because it was three in the morning and anyone who had a life was fast asleep. Yet, there was August carrying a plastic bag full of convenient store foods and a messenger bag. With a quick look over his shoulder, he turned down a street and deviated from his normal route.
Picking up his pace, he held a tight grip on the strap of his bag as he jogged down the narrow street. His breath came out in cloudy puffs when he slowed to a stop suddenly. He looked to the building on his left, searching for a light in the apartment on the fifth floor. But like he remembered, the windows were dark and a light blue sheet of paper was still taped to the door: “Looking for an apartment? Look no further! The fifth floor is free and it was owned by a celebrity!” He wanted to be able to make out two figures bickering about something or other in the window. Maybe even a smaller silhouette would appear and join the side of the tallest.
August frowned, why was he standing there? Why had he come to this place? “Fucking hell…” He cursed, running a hand though his hair out of frustration. He knew she wouldn’t be there, she hadn’t been there for months. But there was always that foolish, naïve part of him that hoped maybe one day she’d come back. Whether she had forgotten something in her old apartment, or she wanted to see the holiday window displays – he just wished she would suddenly be there. Yet, he also knew that she had moved on, like everyone else, and to do bigger and better things. She had to raise her daughter and become a better model than Naomi Campbell. She needed to leave and that she did. “Night, Cecilia…” August whispered, before he turned away and went back the way he had come.
August continued his journey home, passing the New York Zoo. He walked passed the entrance and stopped short of making it to the end of the block. He turned around and walked back to the gated entrance of the zoo. He stood there for a moment, the faint laughter of a particular little girl ringing in his ears. “Those damn butterflies,” August laughed quietly, a strange pinging in his chest. He moved closer to the gate, grabbing one of the cold metal bars, and tried to see the memory more clearly. But the darkness was too thick and the pain was too much, so he let his hand fall away as he backed up.
For a brief moment, his mind drifted and he wonder how the young girl was. A shiver down his spine pushed that thought out, bringing painful memories with it. A family of brunettes and singers. They were always meant for each other. From the beginning they were loved, and for a good reason. Both of them were kind and friendly, constantly watching out for others. But they were gone now, they too had moved on. August didn’t bother to stay a moment longer, tears stinging the back of his eyes. He briskly walked away, mumbling to himself, “Fucking Scotts…”
August resisted the urge to go anywhere else he’d be reminded of the people he loved. He avoided Central Park and Rae, he avoided the bakery and Jazz, he avoided the bookstore and Fay, he avoided Radio City Hall and Lotus, he avoided everything he could. He just wanted to get home, to eat dinner, to cuddle, and then go to bed. And maybe never wake up again to this nightmare.
August violently stabbed his key into the keyhole and opened the door to his apartment. The lights were off and that meant one of two things: he was asleep or he was gone. Recently, he had always been gone, busy with work or friends. August trudged into his home, taking off his messenger bag and leaving it on the floor. He sat the plastic bag on the kitchen counter and took off his leather jacket, draping it over the corner of the island. He warmed the small container of soup he had bought in the microwave and pulled a beer out of the fridge. Feeling lazy and too tired, August didn’t bother turning on any lights and ate in the dark. Of course, that was a bad idea, because his mind roamed as he ate his tomato soup.
Everyone was gone, in one form or another. Most had moved out of New York to continue to pursue their dreams or to raise their families. Others had stopped coming around because work kept them busy and they didn’t have the time they used to. August was still there though, and maybe that was the loneliest part. The thought of being somewhere that held so many memories, some pleasant, some painful – but not being able to leave. It was like being stuck in time, while everyone you loved continued to move on. Not being able to catch up with them, but watching their backs in the distance get farther and farther away. August was in last place of a race he couldn’t seem to win. Even Brooklyn had left him behind.
“Gah, what a shitty night,” August growled, as he threw his food away. He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Smirking, he forced out a hoarse laugh, “Looks like it’s just you and me again, buddy…”
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