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4'33"; Quattro, trentatré; You guys and your silly translations
Topic Started: Oct 7 2016, 05:43 PM (173 Views)
TwelveFourtyFive
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((Alessio Rigano continued from Go to a school trip they said, it will be fun they said))

Time had passed. Time had been wasted.

It was already the next day and Alessio could barely remember the previous one. Or the day before the abduction. That was the good old past. Now was the present, the reality.

Alessio had not been productive. He did not want to be productive, either. He just wanted to live. He did not want to die. He stayed away from the noises he heard. He did not enter suspicious looking buildings. He wandered around. He was like a cat, sniffing the surroundings in the nature.

His feeling what the island was like changed the more he discovered it. It was a hospital, but also a garden, but also a natural area. He knew how to go a route to get from one point to the other. It was beautiful, if they were not trapped on it. But then slowly the island got worse.

Darkness. Imprisoning him. All he could see. Absolute horror.

The first night was the worst experience for Al since he was on the island. It was really, really dark. Completely. It was really, really depressing.

There was no light in the dark. This was not a Kingman night. There was no city light. Just the darkness and the moon.

The stars reminded Alessio of Kingman, though. It reminded him of the moments he walked home during the night. Stars were beautiful, yet extremely scary due to their distance. Al did not know how Raina could be so interested in such a bizarre, scary thing.

Al wandered around and did not think of sleeping. He did not want to. He could not. His time on earth was limited. The beauty of being able to experience all this was too much worth it. Smelling, walking, the pain he got after walking. The beauty of the island. He did not know where to sleep and he was not sure if he would wake up if he had slept.

Time flies, but the night was long. There was so much to think about. About his life before the island, about his future. About Vanessa. About Serena. About the uncomfortable darkness surrounding him. About the hunger he had while walking around or resting in places. About guns. About dangerous people.

Survival was no unfamiliar concept in different countries. In countries where people lived like here all day. Fearing their lives. Al was nothing.

Even the city Kingman was luxus. Alessio had lived in luxus all his life. He never considered himself rich, but tonight he did. Having had a bed to sleep on. Having had several cats to cuddle with. A roof, a bed sheet, parents that sent him a good night. Now, he had nothing.

And the night so dark.

This was how people in war zones felt like. Al experienced the reality. He could feel with the people who had a short life-span and were just glad to see the next sun rising. And the light began to shine and it was already the sunrise. Alessio had his second undergone night in his life.

And it felt so empty. It was no morning like the other mornings. He had nowhere to go. He did not have to go to school. He had nothing to be done.

There was just the task that Danya wanted them to do. Kill or be killed. But Al did not want confrontation. There was nothing to be killed and there was no one to kill him. The light calmed him down. He now could see properly again. It wasn't as scary as in the night. Death did not seem so near as in the night.

Eyes were useful to let time pass more.

How many hours have passed? How many times had he solved the cube already?

Time passed, the emptiness grew, but immediately shrunk when there was a voice coming from the loudspeakers, giving Al information on what had happened. Alessio did not want to hear the announcements. He did not want to know details about who died.

Several names were announced. Who was the killer and who was the killed? Al did not get it, but Vanessa's name was not announced.

And now?

There were names called, Al did not know how many. But it felt to be so few. So few names, so few information he had. He did not know what was with Serena right now. And this was just the first day. So few deaths. This was going to be a long stay on the island for whoever goes out.

Al knew about Charles Darwin. He knew about the Survival of the Fittest concept. He knew about the HSM Beagle. He knew about the concept of natural selection. But he could not control it. Alessio could not control his classmates automatically dying without interferring with the process, this natural selection. This randomness.

It was scary.

He was powerless, he could not help his classmates from dying or killing. Not that he wanted to. What he wanted to have was some more control, though. Some chance to talk with more people.

He would never see Abby again. He would never be able to talk to Alvaro. Al and Joshua were not going to meet each other again. Harold was not going to say something to Al. They are dead.

Perhaps, the last thing he did with Serena was to abandon her. He might not see her again. Perhaps he had not enough hope. Serena had hope, he did not. Alessio would have not thought a car would have helped them. They had no driver license, they would have died in a car crash. But Al had these thoughts back in the night. Now, with the light he believed that Serena was on the way to better the situation, in some way. Now, he wanted to see her again.

He wished he had spent more time with her. With the dead. With anyone. How much did he know about them? How much did he know about Serena? About Joshua? About his love?

But in some days they will be dead. And he will never seem them again.

Never.

He sat on a corner in the room, leaning with his head against the wall. The hood of his hoodie comfortably being used as a extremely thin pillow.

He did. He was.

Absolutely nothing.

And then Al closed his eyes. Alessio felt tired. But he assumed he could stay up a little longer. He could man up, stand up, walk away, live. Opening the eyes again was a challenge. But after thinking about all the thoughts he had during the long night, he could not fall asleep. He stood up. He went.

The night was scary. The day is not.

((Alessio Rigano continued in Early Morning in the Garden of Good and Evil))
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