he, who wished to be forgotten

chapter i

It all started on December 14th, 2017, the night before Edison's birthday. He sat in the kitchen of his sad apartment, his chewing the only noise that filled the vacant space. A scraggly looking cat jumped onto the windowsill outside the connected living room, staring daggers at Edison's food. It was shooed by a sudden rumble of thunder, then rain pounding against the bleak glass. Edison sighed and covered his bland meal of instant rice with plastic, placing it in his fridge. He wondered, what the point was for him to continue on living such an unpropitious life. After all, death was an inevitable, natural part of all lives, correct? However, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he had given in to such thoughts. Would anybody miss him? Would there even be a soul at his funeral, given he was organised one? He laid on his raggedy couch, dwelling.

The next day was his birthday. For most, a happy and momentous occasion. However, Edison had trouble getting off of his couch to brush his teeth and get himself ready for the day. He checked his phone. Not a single wish, only one from his bartender, Arlo. Once he convinced himself he was worth enough to at least wake up, he went about his morning activities and made his way to his workplace. On his way, he was approached by an elderly woman who questioned his whereabouts, along with a Salvation Army volunteer who was adamant enough to squeeze 50 cents from Edison.

A desolate cubicle prison is where Edison spent the next 8 hours, typing away at his computer and punching in numbers that had no significance to him whatsoever. Day after day, it was the exact same thing. Even his birthday had no effect as to how he acted. After his sentence came his parole, at a local bar near his apartment building.

"Evening, Eddie. How goes you?" The bartender asked Edison. A muscular man, who always wore tight button-up shirts to flaunt his physique. He had a thick Liverpool accent, distinct from Edison's proper New Yorker voice. He was one of the only people who knew Edison on a personal level, one of the only people keeping Edison from the edge.

"I've nothing new to say since yesterday, Arlo." Edison replied dryly. "Have you any whiskey left in the cellar? I've got around 7 bucks to spend, and I might as well spend them on something worthwhile."

"Got one saved just for you, Ed." Arlo, the bartender said as he lifted a bottle of cheap whiskey from under the counter. "Give me $3 and it's yours."

Edison gave the 3 dollars to Arlo and subsequently took the bottle of whiskey, immediately opening it and taking a quick swig. He wiped his mouth with his free hand and laid his head on the table. Arlo looked down at the already somewhat disheveled Edison, concerned.

"D'you need a bifter, Ed? I don't want you gettin' bevvy, especially when you've barely got money for a cab..." Arlo asked with a frown, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Edison graciously declined, pushing away the 'bifter' he was offered and taking another chug of the bitter whiskey. It burned in the back of Edison's thoat, a disgusting taste and a repulsive aftermath, but it was one of the only things keeping him sane. As Arlo rambled about his day, Edison nodded and occasionally responded with "Oh." or "Wow, that's amazing." As it was, Arlo noticed the lack of enthusiasm towards his day and decided to keep quiet.

An all but unfamiliar feeling washed over Edison as he reached the bottom of the bottle, looking across the room through the glass. He handed the empty pitcher to Arlo, who put it in the recycling bin.

"Need a bit of scra before you go home, Ed?" Arlo asked, placing a piece of chocolate next to Edison's head. "I know it's your birthday, couldn't exactly afford to get you something nice on my salary...' Edison turned to look at the candy, a square, caramel-filled delight. He sat pensively, staring at it.

"Thank you, Arlo... I truly appreciate it, I do." He finally said, a clear relief brightening Arlo's face. "G'wed then, eat it! Don't be shy, it's my present to you!"

Edison took the chocolate hesitantly and slowly peeled it open. He took a small bite. The overwhelming bitterness took over his tastebuds, Edison flinching from its unpleasantness. Arlo looked at him, a his lips curled in a frown.

"Me sister gave it to me as a little treat, she got it back in Liverpool... I understand it's a little bitter." He finally said, trying to justify his giving the candy. Edison simply chuckled, blinking his eyes lazily at Arlo. "No, it's... It's great, Arlo. I know I'm kind of an asshole when it comes to my birthday." He said, his voice raspy from the dry chocolate and dull whiskey. Arlo's face turned a bit brighter, smiling. "I'd treat you to dinner, but the bar's been slow lately..."

There was a comfortable silence between the two as Arlo cleaned glasses and Edison laid his head comfortably on the freshly wiped bar counter. Arlo smiled at him, chuckling. "Are you sure you'll be able to walk home like that? I'd be gobsmacked if you were just able to make it out the door." Edison could only groan in response to his friend, just barely being able to lift his head from the wood. He coughed, blinking his eyes one after the other and swaying in his seat. "Edison? Are you-" Arlo was interrupted by Edison slipping off the barstool and landing on the floor with a loud thud. Arlo griped, walking over and easily picking up Edison to sit him at a booth. What am I ever going to do with you... He thought, finishing some last touches to his cleaning.