It was too loud.
The roaring of the endless crowd, the pounding of the construction hammers, and the never-ending honking and shouting clashed into a cacophony of noise, drowning out any hope of music. With a sigh, David yanked the headphones out and stuffed them into his pocket. Glancing around, he recognized none of the buildings that now shadowed his once small town. The old family market now replaced by a high-rise complex. The home of his favorite science teacher now a pile of rubble underneath a shopping mall. As he continued walking through the familiar, yet foreign landscape, he felt that small bubble of anger rise up. While he hadn’t left on the best of terms, this is still home, or was. It certainly didn’t feel like it anymore. It held some of his most precious memories. But they would only ever be memories now, seeing as how the past was slowing vanishing and all too quickly replaced by the new. He sighed again and rubbed his face. “Only five minutes and I already can’t wait to leave” he mused quietly. Thinking back, he remembered the laughing faces of children racing through the streets after the ice cream truck. The childhood memories of playing tag, birthday parties, kissing girls whispered at the back of mind, only to vanish once more as the noise filter through. Not even a moment of piece is this new bumbling city. With nothing left for him in the town square, David kept walking. He watched the sidewalk as he went, trying to remember each little crack and unwilling too look up at the now unfamiliar setting.
As he shuffled through the streets, the ceaseless rumble eventually faded into blessed silence. David looked up to find himself standing in front of the old school building. A small smile crept up his cheeks at first of the few remaining vestiges of his life here. Some of his earliest memories started in these very halls. Circling around the fence, his smile grew as he spotted the exact table, still painted that hideous green, where he and his friends had traded juice boxes and cards. David couldn’t remember how many card games – spades, blackjack, poker on risky days – were played on those bench seats, only that Tommy was reigning champion. He laughed at the thought of Tommy’s triumphant dance and Joey’s fits of rage before remembering himself. After all, he couldn’t remember the last time he played cards. Continuing his journey around the fence, he tried to catch a glimpse of the old playground and Tireragon, the ridiculous dragon made of tires that guarded the innocent childhood kingdom. But when he rounded the back of the school, he faltered and stopped dead in his tracks. It was gone. All of it was gone. A dirt hole surrounded by grass looked more like a grave, a memorial to what was. The playground, and the entire back end of the school were missing, leaving only the empty skeleton of the school, the front having been left untouched for appearances. Tireragon had been replaced. Now guarding the empty halls stood a wreaking ball. Its cold unrelenting steel glinted in the dimming sunlight, as if waiting for the perfect time to strike. The bubble of anger had grown into a steady trickle – how dare they ruin this! Some things aren’t meant to be changed! But the past is one of those things, and David was already too late to stop the progress of time and its influence here. With a huffed breath, he turned around and ran to the only place left he knew was still standing. It was too quiet.
Standing in the entryway of the church, David took a deep breath. Being protected due to historical significance, the sturdy stone walls and colorful glass windows would always be there to offer him some peace of mind. Gently nudging the door open, he slipped inside. Standing in the back room, he peered into the ongoing mass. Stunning as ever, the streaming light illuminated the alter. The perfect statues of the Holy Family gazed down on him with seemingly love filled eyes. Shifting his own gaze, David looked towards the congregation. To his surprise and dismay, only five people sat there in worship. Five solitary figures surrounded by a wooden sea of benches as if they too would be swallowed up and disappear, leaving only the priest to carry on the ceremony for an empty church. David spotted to janitor in the corner.
“Excuse me,” David whispered. “I just got into town, but I used to live here. This used to be the popular mass. What happened to everyone?”
The janitor looked surprised for a moment, then bowed his head. “This mass, heck this church, ain’t been popular for years. All the old folk died off and young’uns just stopped coming. You musta been gone a long time, kid.”
David began to back up, shaking his head. The supported walls of the church suddenly felt like they were closing in. Without a second thought, David turned of his heel and sprinted out the door. He couldn’t stay there a minute longer. It was too empty.
He kept running and running, until he finally made it back into town. Jumping into his car and slamming the door, he gasped for breath. Once he regained some semblance of composure, he gripped the steering wheel, resting his head upon his hands. It was too much. There was a reason he had left and never looked back. He shouldn’t have come back now. Forget the promise to visit his family. But he couldn’t. The whole reason he had dragged himself out to this now godforsaken town. He had to accomplish at least that. Taking in one last deep breath, he fastened his seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot, finally heading to his parent’s house.
About ten minutes later, David finally pulled into the driveway. Passing rows of empty roads and pitch-black houses, this one was the only one with a light on. He let the car stall for a few seconds longer, gathering up the last of his mental and emotional strength. He trudged up to the house, trying to ignore the sickening feeling of the day’s misadventures and growing dread of this last stop. He raised his hand to knock, but before he could bring it down even once, the door swung wide open, nearly knocking him off the step. “David!” came the resounding cry as his relatives piled in the door to see the prodigal son returned. Without even a second to regain his footing, David was pulled into hug after hug in a seemingly endless parade of family – parents, sisters, cousins, and grandparents each impatient for their turn. His bag and coat were ushered away upstairs, and he found himself sitting at the table before he could even blink. Bombarded with endless questions, he could barely keep up, but in his distraction, he barely noticed the tension, the anger, the sorrow vanishing with each passing moment. Finally, dinner was brought out and grace said. While trying to get a spoonful of mashed potatoes, he noticing his mother smiling gently at him. He tilted his head in question. She smiled brighter and replied, “It’s good to have you home.”
“It’s good to be back, mom.”
It had been too long.
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