[Metal Tsubasa]: 95.Forget and Go.Empty Apartment

He looked out from his apartment window and down on the city lights. Darkness didn’t seem to matter to the city with its flashing lights and floods of people. He could see the long trail of headlights and tail lights moving through the city like a string of precious jewels being dragged slowly and steadily in and out from between a mine embedded with its own sparkling jewels yet to be removed.
Slowly he placed his rough, worked hand on the pane of glass, which kept him from falling into the mess of lights below. His green eyes stared blankly out into the sleepless night, and reflected the lights as though sucking it all in to save as some sacred, useless memory. Perhaps it wasn’t taking in or saving a new memory, but to look down on a memory already rooted inside him.
“Why did you have to have this place?” she would questioningly grumble, arms crossed firmly under her chest. “You’ve got two rooms you don’t even use.”
He would tell her that it was because of the view, because of what he could see during the night, he loved that. It was then that he asked her to move in. She was so happy to do so, but still she would grumble about the waste of space. Now it was a waste of space, since her emotions and her feeling was gone. She had made rules for him, and he didn’t follow them, now she was gone.
“You get hurt or die,” she told him one night before falling asleep, “I’m gone.”
And she had kept her word. He had been dead for almost five minuets and everyone said she left before he’d come back. Would she ever know he was back? Would she even care? There was no way she would have known he wasn’t dead and there was no way to tell her.
His friends said to try her cell phone, but upon calling it he found it hidden under the sheets in their room. She wanted to be gone, because he knew the one rule and she was going to stick to it; she was stubborn like that. Now, he just looked down at the lights below and wanted to die all over again.
It had been such an odd and horrifying experience when he died. He could slowly feel himself slipping away and all he could think of was her and how upset she would be. He thought about the stupid things, about how she hated his eating habits, how she always made him practice his driving and now that he could never drive with her nagging at him again. There was no light, no way for him to tell that he was leaving his body. All he could feel was some sort of separation: himself from everyone else. Everything in his world was disappearing… or rather, he was disappearing from that world.
“Are you coming to bed?” she used to call if he stayed by the window long after she was dressed for bed.
She would come out into the living room and wrap her arms around his waist while he stood staring out the window. It was always nice to have her there, to feel her body gently pressed against his back and her cheek resting ever so slightly against his shoulder blades. He should have been more careful, he should have taken her more seriously.
The phone then began to ring and Caden turned away from the window to see who it was. Since she had left, Caden still hoped that it was her on the phone. That she was calling to make sure he was alright. But it never was her, and she never found out that he was alright. Slowly, Caden picked up the phone and with a groggy voice he voiced a questioning, "Hello?", as if awaiting some familiar voice. It was familiar, but it wasn't her.
"Caden!" a male voice came shouting over the phone, right into Caden's ear.
Caden knew the voice all too well. It was Markus, his sort of little brother in a sence. Markus' voice sounded like a boy just hitting puberty, when a young boys voice slowly begans to crackle into a deeper, more masculine voice; caden figured he had never gone beyond that stage, and not just because of his voice.
"Caden where are you!" Markus continued, and Caden could hear engings roaring in the background. "The race is in a half an hour! You said you'd be here two hours ago! C'mon man! Please!"
He held the phone to his ear, and he parted his tanned lips to respond, but nothing came. He thought he was back, he thought he could race again. It wasn't because of the accident, it wasn't because he was still healing, it was all because of her.