The Fallen City

|Chapter VI: Damning Redemption

He awoke to the silence of the world falling as white noise upon his ears. It echoed around him, his every action, it spurred it. He hated it. He could feel a sense in his body that didn't belong, he exiled it by drinking straight from another open bottle on his bedside.

The burning liquid ignited his throat, destroying and scorching anything that remained of sobriety. Gale took a deep breath. His eyes locked onto the other side of the room meaninglessly. His heart burned quietly.

It took him a while to realise the lack of light pouring in. His clock's hands were suspended way before his normal waking hours. Realisation hit him shortly after, an early awakening.

Try as he might Gale could not force the City to come back to him. He fell into a frustrated silence, punctuated by the repeated grunts as he desperately tossed and turned trying to find a place of rest. He sat up on his bed growling with insurmountable rage. He scrambled to his feet, a cigarette already clenched between his teeth and a bottle in his hand, he stumbled to his radio room.

Gale banged the door open, he tripped and trod to his seat, falling down into it with a silent thud. His large notebook sat in front of him, its cover had long deteriorated as had the city he once knew. It seemed almost an upsetting coincidence that the journal that housed his dreams would have decayed just like they had. However whilst he could repair his tales of the City, and often had, it was a damning irony he could seldom achieve such comparable feats in the City itself.

Especially these days.

He pawed quietly at the lock, eventually managing to turn its key with a shaky hand. That same hand ran over the leather cover, the metal bolted to its surface had long rusted, yet it still held some of its marvellous brilliance. Nostalgia filled him as he turned the pages to once in particular, dated six years ago.

Yet even as he read his transcripts the words just couldn't form. his mind blocked them, the image they conveyed was muted. He could remain there for ours, trying to relive it. Yet when his day to day kicked in it was clear as glass.

It haunted him...

"You need to wake up."

The last of the page was smudged by water drops and liquor stains. He dared not read it. He didn't need to. Again it haunted him.

He stumbled up from the chair, scooping up the bottle as he went. It took a lot of effort for him to even make it to the door. He made desperately for the cluttered living room, he tried to reach his stereo. Gale's mind was fogged. Not just by the alcohol but thousands of unwanted thoughts plagued him. He would blink and see his wedding, he'd blink again and see his son for the first time.

"Not a chance." He spat to himself, stopping in his tracks. He upended the bottle, chugging the liquor like it was orange juice. His throat screamed, his body burned. He felt a brief, yet unwanted relief as it ran out of the intoxicant. "Oh for god's sake." He growled, turning and hurling the bottle at his front door.

"Bloody Empty!" Gale shouted after it, he wobbled on his feet as he tried to stop his motion, it didn't work.

He screamed in pain as he landed. His joints cracked and popped. The radiator was far from forgiving.

His screams turned to roars of rage as he cradled his head. He beat against the floor, he hurled fists at an invisible assailant. He tried to breath but the air choked him.

"Let me go!" He roared, his body screamed at him. His eyes burned as they watered. His vision turned clouded. His mind was broken again. The pain was as fresh as the day it came. "Bring me back! Tala! Wake Up!"