Chapter One
A web of city lights spreads out thousands of feet below, the top of the Burj Khalifa offering an unhindered view of Dubai. I can see it for all it’s worth; the life it breathes into the world, the people it nourishes…and I think of how I cannot be a part of it. The dry fingers of a desert wind beckon for me to cross over the balcony ledge into nothing, but I ignore its invitation for the moment, taking my time to contemplate the inevitable future that awaits me. There is a darkness that will soon ensnare me in its arms and, with it, an end to my existence.
A part of me fears this end, but another, larger part of me wonders what would happen if I accept it. Would it hurt to die? Probably. Would it be worth embracing it in order …show more content…
The city shines with vibrant hues of blue and gold, green and purple; tiny, yellow pinpricks of head lights moving along the network of streets like little ants. Towers boasting of elegant curves and sharp edges strain themselves around me, trying and failing to reach my height. To my right stretches the Persian Gulf and if I stare long enough to my left I can imagine seeing the Gulf of Oman over miles of undulating sand dunes.
A cold rush of emptiness overtakes me and I absently remove a golden pocket watch from my vest. It is a very unique watch, one that I am very fond of because it is one of the only things that was ever given to me before…before my world was lost to isolation and fear. I try not to think of the time before, not that there is much I can remember, but the watch always holds a piece of memory for me that is somehow warm and comforting. Call it overly sentimental to be so attached to a timepiece, but it is a part of me.
I close my eyes against the gold designs on the watch’s case and listen for a moment. It is faint at first, but gradually I hear the ticking of billions of clocks turning at varying speeds. Their sound grows louder the longer I listen and I wonder how I can be the only one to hear …show more content…
I can’t be crazy, but they can’t hear it. No one else can hear what I hear, the tick, tick, tick of life draining from the world around us. Why can’t they hear it running out?
I hear one ticking clock begin to slow now and my eyes snap open. I open the timepiece and give it a quick glance. This is it. I can no longer ignore what I came here for. The time has come.
I grip my watch close and lift my face to the far away heavens. The moon is out tonight, its white face bulbous in the dark sky. Again the wind beckons and I step onto the balcony rail, no longer able to ignore its invitation. I teeter slightly, gazing down at the open city and feeling the soles of my shoes slip on the rail’s plaster.
There is no one to see me, no one to catch and stop me, but that is no different than the rest of my life. I smile and chuckle to myself, noting a bit of hysteria in the sound of my voice; I’ve never done this before. My arms are stretched out to either side now for balance, but it does me no good when I lean too far out over the ledge. I fall from the
A web of city lights spreads out thousands of feet below, the top of the Burj Khalifa offering an unhindered view of Dubai. I can see it for all it’s worth; the life it breathes into the world, the people it nourishes…and I think of how I cannot be a part of it. The dry fingers of a desert wind beckon for me to cross over the balcony ledge into nothing, but I ignore its invitation for the moment, taking my time to contemplate the inevitable future that awaits me. There is a darkness that will soon ensnare me in its arms and, with it, an end to my existence.
A part of me fears this end, but another, larger part of me wonders what would happen if I accept it. Would it hurt to die? Probably. Would it be worth embracing it in order …show more content…
The city shines with vibrant hues of blue and gold, green and purple; tiny, yellow pinpricks of head lights moving along the network of streets like little ants. Towers boasting of elegant curves and sharp edges strain themselves around me, trying and failing to reach my height. To my right stretches the Persian Gulf and if I stare long enough to my left I can imagine seeing the Gulf of Oman over miles of undulating sand dunes.
A cold rush of emptiness overtakes me and I absently remove a golden pocket watch from my vest. It is a very unique watch, one that I am very fond of because it is one of the only things that was ever given to me before…before my world was lost to isolation and fear. I try not to think of the time before, not that there is much I can remember, but the watch always holds a piece of memory for me that is somehow warm and comforting. Call it overly sentimental to be so attached to a timepiece, but it is a part of me.
I close my eyes against the gold designs on the watch’s case and listen for a moment. It is faint at first, but gradually I hear the ticking of billions of clocks turning at varying speeds. Their sound grows louder the longer I listen and I wonder how I can be the only one to hear …show more content…
I can’t be crazy, but they can’t hear it. No one else can hear what I hear, the tick, tick, tick of life draining from the world around us. Why can’t they hear it running out?
I hear one ticking clock begin to slow now and my eyes snap open. I open the timepiece and give it a quick glance. This is it. I can no longer ignore what I came here for. The time has come.
I grip my watch close and lift my face to the far away heavens. The moon is out tonight, its white face bulbous in the dark sky. Again the wind beckons and I step onto the balcony rail, no longer able to ignore its invitation. I teeter slightly, gazing down at the open city and feeling the soles of my shoes slip on the rail’s plaster.
There is no one to see me, no one to catch and stop me, but that is no different than the rest of my life. I smile and chuckle to myself, noting a bit of hysteria in the sound of my voice; I’ve never done this before. My arms are stretched out to either side now for balance, but it does me no good when I lean too far out over the ledge. I fall from the