Eye To Eye (See Nothing) /3Mature

You wonder why you’re smiling, what the fuck could be wrong with you that could make you happy when on the other side of town, blood is spurting from buildings as body parts rain from the windows. ‘Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts!’ The line from the song you once sung with your friends gets stuck in your head; the absurdity makes you gurgle a laugh. There is something seriously fucking wrong with you, you think. He chuckles with you first, asks why later. ‘Because it’s so fucked up, I guess,’ you explain, ‘All that’ll be left are cockroaches, cement and politicians. It’s like history taught humanity nothing; if you start a war with the wrong people, it’s all over. Like Sparta taught Athens. Goddamnit…’ You laugh again, the sound clipped and harsh. ‘Goddamnit…we’re all so stupid, really. We really fucking are.’ The wind picks up like the breath of a last goodbye, rustling your hair, slapping thickly against his coat. The breeze is grey with powdered cement, silver with shrapnel crystals that burrow scrapes into your faces as they scream past. ‘Close your eyes,’ he says. The gale continues. Tight rivulets whisper across your neck as you shield your face against his chest; when it finally slows, half of his face is pockmarked with blood, the veins in his eye are split and the colour is spilling dilute across the white. He looks down and smiles as the iris involuntarily cries red. ‘Just a scratch,’ he whispers when your weeping starts, ‘it’s just a scratch.’ You run for the building, not caring if it stands like a tree in a lightning storm- a worthier target for ruination than two terrified bodies in a sea of ashes and glass. The eye is still trickling. You reach up to wipe his face, nearly ill when you realise that now his blood is on your hands. You sob and dry wretch, falling back against the wall, into the corner, your fingers shaking as you hold them away from you, disbelieving that they’re yours. ‘Oh god.’ You don’t believe in god, you’re a devoted atheist, but you keep saying his name. ‘Oh god.’ What a time to convert, you think. ‘Oh god.’


The End

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