Delilah

The screens glimmer in the sunlight. It shines past the tall buildings of glass like light through diamonds, refracted in all its scintillating glory.

We stand side by side.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I ask Delilah. I turn to look at her. She is smiling. I smile too. Her and I have very similar tastes.

She wears her favorite dress of black polka-dots and her hair, as always, is cut shoulder length and hanging loose. Behind pairs of long and dark eyelashes, she regards the world with twinkling eyes of ice. And that ever-smile of hers, soft and subtle, reserved for only the closest of friends. And friends we were. Best of friends.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m talking to myself…

Oh, how close, how similar we are!

But I cannot help but feel as if something is wrong…

That silence of hers...

Spend time with someone long enough you can sense when something wrong. I sense it now. “What’s wrong?” I ask. She simply smiles. “It’s alright.” I insist, “you can tell me.”

Nothing.

I sigh and turn her towards me. “What is it, Delilah?” her eyes betray the smile. Deep within those pupils I sense a hidden sadness. Longing. Perhaps she wants to spend time with her other friends? “Is that what you’d like? To spend time with your other friends?”

She smiles.

I am saddened by this, though I do not show it. We were having such a good time. But I understand that she needs her space, even if we are best friends. So, I do what any best friend would do: “Its okay. I guess we’ll talk later…”

But she does not move. Her eyes consider mine and in them I see a request. Oh, how foolish of me! I pat her on the shoulder reassuringly. “Of course, I’ll walk you there,”

We walk side-by-side, as always. She has a smile on her face. I can tell she is glad I said yes. I am glad too. We are best of friends, after all.

On the way there we pass an endless array of shops: clothing, food, toys, records, comics, electronics – everything anyone could ever want. I think about entering a few of them, but I do not want to keep Delilah’s friends waiting, so we walk on. Perhaps I will come check them out after dropping her off?

The mall casts a shadow in the afternoon light, stretching out slowly with each moment that passes. The doors to the mall are unlocked, as always, and we enter.

We climb the escalator to the second floor. It does not work. It’s been quite a while and I wonder when they are going to get around to fixing it. Delilah shares in my disappointment.

We walk for a while. The store is quite far, but the advertisements hanging in windows and ceilings make for ample entertainment on the way there. Delilah regards the shops passing by and see the desire in her eyes when passing one shoe store in particular. We lock eyes. She is smiling. I laugh. “After,”

At last we arrive at the store. “Afternoon,” I say as we enter. Her friends are clustered together. Delilah smiles as she stands with them. Their eyes brim with excitement. I’ve seen that gaze before. They will not speak until I leave.

I say “goodbye”, return to the checkered walkway and lean against the rail overlooking the lobby.

I feel the familiar sensation beginning to surface. I close my eyes, forcing it down. “It’s alright,” I whisper, “its alright.”

I am shaking uncontrollably.

My heart hammers within my chest as if to purge the sedentary loneliness swelling within.

With all my energy, I try a smile.

Yet only tears fall.

I sink to the floor and hug myself, nails digging into my ribs as my weeping echoes against the white walls redolent of an asylum, and I, the only being left capable of going mad. My mind, adrift the tumultuous tides of madness, and in the damnable silence forced to confront the harsh reality of what I so desperately flee; loneliness.

I bang my head against the rail.

But there’s no way out!

There is no solution!

Trapped, am I, in a world so quiet and cold I pray for no tomorrow!

…

But tears can only fall for so long, and soon, no more.      

Silence returns.

The mind goes blank.

I sense nothing.

And for a fleeting moment, if just for a moment, I find solace in this little cavity of the mind, close as death can come in life - free from the rancorous ramblings of insanity, spurring me towards the final act I cower from, capable of granting me this gift of tranquil slumber forevermore.

I regard the shops, so many of which I’d entered when there were still others around. I do not know how much time has passed since the disappearance. I have not been keeping track. I am not sure whether I’d like to find out or not. Either would be enough to drive me deeper into despair, if possible.

It feels like my soul has left my body and all that’s left is the consciousness, left to observe its surroundings without registering anything. And somewhere, faint as a whisper, comes the thoughts of what remains of me, Am I dead?

…

No.

But it feels that way.

I get to my feet and return to the store where the mannequin waits with the others. I head inside and for a moment just stop. I marvel at them, the incongruity between life and death, the prime manifestation of the limbo I walk every day.

I take the mannequin in my arms and head back outside.

#

We watch the sunset. The Hudson River glimmers in its brilliant hues of red, yellow and orange. They paint Delilah’s skin bronze and turn her eyes of ice a warm amber.  

I lean against the rail and watch as sun disappears, and darkness descends upon the city.

“Beautiful, wasn’t it?”

A hand rests atop mine, still warm from the flames of the setting sun.

“Indeed.”