Echoes of Emptiness

The grey-scale pavement reflected an unwelcome and gloomy face back at Carlos as he stared down at his feet in dismay. 18 years ago an unfortunate event occurred, an unfortunate event that shunned the cerebellum of Carlos’ temple. For 18 years now he was sauntered the streets in curiosity and neglect. Despite his lack of memory he remembers that the unwelcome event was not something for the light-hearted. Henceforth he refuses to look back to his past and instead perseveres with the present to manufacture the future. 

A harsh blizzard slashed down upon Carlos that winter day. The rustling of the wind lacerated his ear canals with snow freezing him physically as well as emotionally.  In accordance with the snow, the harsh apricity of the sun fell like a dagger down upon his mentality as he clambered over to his bedraggled establishment; longing for an escape to the curse that was being here, alive. Tears walked upon his visage, and shivers fell down his spine. Before plotzing upon his sofa, an unknown and unwelcome knock collided with the front door. Confusion strummed throughout Carlos as he scrambled northbound to the door. “So this is where you’ve been hiding.” His best pal Jose exclaimed with a cheesy grin upon his face. The two were complete polar-opposites, Jose being a confident socialite working as a headmaster at a local Secondary school, and Carlos being a depressed alcoholic working at a factory downtown. Despite their utter differences in personality, they remained closer than ever since 7 years old. Neither one remembered Carlos’ past…

“So how’s it been I haven’t seen you since January!” Jose announced; it was currently June and Carlos had been lumbering back and forth from work to his monotonous brick house daily for the past few months. He didn’t have the heart to inform Jose of this so he spurted out “Yeah well I’ve been busy with work and house maintenance you know.” Lying to his face hurt immensely, on the contrary the last time Carlos told him of the truth he went to AA meetings for 6 months. Never again. For the next 37 and a half minutes, (Carlos counted with anticipation and anxiety) Jose caught up with Carlos, evaluating his fantastic life, amazing wife, great kids, etc… After the first 10 minutes, sleep struck Carlos as he was suddenly filled with a depressing image of what his life could have been if he’d gone for a different path in life. A stifled groan left Carlos’ vocal cords as he emerged from his elongated slumber only to remain in the conversation a half hour later. He needed to wrap this up or the booze would come out once again. “Sobriety sucks” Thought Carlos as he began to yawn, obviously willing for the conversation to end, however the worst was yet to come…

“Sorry you must be getting bored, let me get to the interesting stuff” he winked at Carlos, an intense feeling of anxiety and anxiousness erupted throughout his spine as the news entered his mind. Supposedly the police were currently searching for Carlos’ whereabouts as after 18 years they’d discovered what Carlos could not about his past, and it evidently wasn’t great. “What?” Carlos exclaimed, panic purged his scalp as he leapt up, his eyes searching his room for an escape. The back door. Thoughts of pain terrorised his brain as he visualised his descent into the penal system wondering how bad his choices were 18 years ago. One final “Goodbye” left his mouth as he sprinted through the back door, beginning his life on the run.

Fright surged his body as he hastily scampered outside in a drunken pace, despite the distinct lack of alcohol in his bloodstream. None of this mattered however, as his one aim right now was to get out of this place. This town? This country? He was unsure. All he knew was that he needed to leave, now. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind, a place of sanctitude he could escape to. Not his parents, they pretended he wasn’t their son; he had no siblings that he was aware of, however one relative still remained loyal to Carlos despite his alcoholism. Uncle Pete, a man alike Carlos in the sense of work ethic and sobriety, he too was recovering from his past and Carlos began to bound over to his house in attempt to evade the law. But it was too late. Police sirens surged everywhere, “HE’S OVER THERE!” A voice boomed from across the street. This was the beginning of the end.

His feet collided with the floor, and almost his whole body, as he ran faster than any man currently standing on earth. The clouds cried tears in the form of verglas, damaging his nerves and respiratory system as sweat met his cheeks. After twenty-four minutes of evasion he’d arrived at Pete’s house only to hear the sound of multiple voices from the inside, policemen. Evidently the loyalty of people closest to Carlos had defied him that day as his last shred of hope had been torn to pieces in the form of Pete. However a gunshot sounded from inside, following a previous blast from a sawed-off-shotgun. Perhaps Pete’s loyalty was still at hand. Unfortunately it was, the unfortunate thing was that his attempts were fruitless as a body hit the floor, and it wasn’t a policeman. 

An immense sense of tremor emerged as the front door opened and yells proceeded from both sides of the battle. With surprisingly quick reflexes, the policeman who opened the door turned 180 and loaded Carlos with a blast from his pistol. And Carlos fell. His time had finally come and his consciousness fell from the mortal realm. His final vision showed yells erupting omnidirectional from policeman and passing civilians, the sound of silence was ringing in his head as Carlos began to drift mentally. The faint smell of liquor filled his nostrils, before turning into the smell of blood as his vision went blurry and he entered the realm of death.