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[ ✖ Recycled ] - Jonoir

The streets were deserted, the roads were void of vehicles and buildings were emptied of life, only the dull glimmer of the moon could be witnessed in the distance of the skies. The sea up above had been vacated of all the stars for miles and moon barely managed to shine.

The only light of the city had been bared lampposts dim alongside the lonesome night. Nothing was in motion, not even the vast sky.

The array of streetlights hanging overhead were beginning to cause problems, bright lights probing into the night were forcing down a thick spiral of pain lingering inside the contours of his brain, echoing deep into his ears as he barely managed to will away the pain lingering there.

"What am I doing?" Shixun hissed shoving his hand to his forehead, lolling his head back further as he pressed his hand down to his neck, ruffling the strands of hair as he went, kneading at the tense muscles.

He carried himself down the street with a thin black cartridge settled between his fingertips, his digits fumbling with the cigarette as he let the flame burn it out, watching the smoke waft up in front of his face. He had been too exhausted to finish the cancer burning down to the bud in his hands and instead opted to let it die slowly.

The low grumble of cars hitting pavement was a sweet tune of trance in his head as he let the wet streets wind down under the rubber of the cars in the distance, the constant flow of life moving about regardless of who bothered to listen brought to him a sort of peace, something to calm his wayward mind.

The minute hand on his watch clicked in bits of an alarm, marking the strike of midnight, he stared at the silver ROLEX with his heart sinking into his chest.

That night marked the one year anniversary of death, the death of someone beloved and he couldn't bring himself to forget that night, he couldn't bring himself to erase what happened.

He stood on the corner of the sidewalk, his heels digging into the brush below him as the bud of the cartridge burned his hand, forcing the small piece to tumbled down into a small puddle, wet enough to put the dying buzz out in a burst of smoke.

He wanted to be put out of his misery.

He wished for nothing more.

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