I sat in my cold, empty, lifeless apartment, reading the one book that brought me joy: The Trumpet of the Swan.
My name is Jake Taylor. I am twenty-three years old, alone, and...I wouldn’t say ‘depressed’, but something close to it. Why am I alone? There are a few things to know in order to answer that.
To start, when I was four years old, my negligence killed my parents. I was playing in the backyard of my old house without a care in the world. My parents were in the living room, setting up for my birthday. They were so focused, and I was so...distracted, that none of us noticed my stupid mistake.
As a four-year-old, I was very curious. So, when I saw my mom turn something on a big, black box, my curiosity took over. Now, I know that big, black box was called a stove, and that thing I turned was what turned it on. The fire took a while to really burn, but once it did, it spread really fast.
I was outside, so I didn’t have to worry about being burned alive. But my parents...they weren’t so lucky. Somehow, they didn’t notice until it was too late. The firemen arrived fast, but not fast enough. They got me to safety, but the house came down before my parents got out.
For the first four years of my life, my parents were the best friends I had. I didn’t care for making friends in preschool because I thought I’d always have my mom and dad. How wrong I turned out to be.
Anyhow, after that, I ended up in the care of my aunt on my mom’s side. To her credit, she tried to be a good guardian. But whenever she tried to cheer me up, it’d always end with tears in my eyes. Eventually, she just got fed up and stopped caring about me. She’d treat me like I was ungrateful, which looking back, I kinda was, but I still say she went too far with the discipline.
This went on for about...three years. But even during all she put me through, I never lashed out. That is...until she scolded me for not forgetting about my parents. I lashed out and started yelling at her...and was met with a smack to the face. She told me to shake it off, but I couldn’t hold back tears. She grabbed onto me and started shaking me...until her friend walked in and called Child-Protective Services.
After that, it was off to the orphanage, the first of many. The only problem was, no one wants to adopt a seven year old. I was never actually angry with my aunt. After all, it was my fault I was in her care in the first place, so it’s not like I could complain.
Anyhow, life at the orphanage was...uneventful. Most of the other, younger orphans looked up to me, which I kinda liked, but I still didn’t make any attempt to befriend. But to this day, I say it was because of my leadership that I was never adopted. I spent two years at that orphanage until the headmaster couldn’t afford to keep it running, so I was relocated.
This basically started a chain of repeating events. It was orphanage, no adoption, orphanage, no adoption, and so on. I got a job by the time I was sixteen, but I barely made enough to get by.
Luckily, by the time I turned eighteen, luck finally started to show. Now, since I was sixteen, I had been working at the exact same grocery store. Don’t ask why, I just didn’t bother looking for another job. Anyhow, after two years of working there, I had been promoted from cashier, to stock-boy. Then, after another year, I went from stock-boy, to supervisor. By now, I was a manger. I got decent pay, my coworkers respect me, and I get to be my own boss, under the CO of course.
Anyhow, back to the present. I was sitting in my apartment, reading my book, when all of the sudden, the ground started shaking. I looked up from my book, but didn’t pay any mind. Then the ground shook again, knocking over and shattering my lamp. It wasn’t a very expensive lamp, so I wasn’t very upset.
After that, the earth just decided to go on a sugar rush. The earthquake that ensued was big enough to...well, destroy the building. I rushed out my front door, shoved a few neighbors out of the way, and bolted down the stairs. I probably could’ve gone down the fire escape or through the window, but I’m not a smart person when it comes to emergency situations like this. That being said, the stairs were my best option. At least I wasn’t dumb enough try to take the elevator.
I got to the bottom floor and saw a lot of other people trying to rush through the exit doors at once, so I had to find another way out. The chandelier started swaying back and forth, and I knew it was only a matter of time until it came down. Luckily, I saw a few people diving out the windows. I ran and jumped out of the window.
The ground was still shaking once I got outside, but it wasn’t as bad.
“Sweetie, please! Take my hand!” I heard a woman cry.
I looked at the building to see a woman around my age looking in one of the windows. I knew the building was about to come down, so I ran up to pull her away out of instinct. To this day, I don’t know what drove me to do that.
“No! You can’t! My daughter, she’s still in there!” the woman yelled as I dragged her away from the building.
I ran up to the window and looked through to see a little girl inside the building, seemingly searching for something. I jumped inside to took her by the hand.
“Wait! My dolly!” the girl screamed.
I looked around and saw a doll sitting on the couch. I tossed the girl out the window, into the arms of her mother, and I rushed to grab her doll.
No sooner than I got to the window did I hear the roof collapse. As quick as I could, I tossed the doll out the window and braced for impact.
Surprisingly, I hardly felt it. In fact, I heard and saw a white flash before my eyes before blacking out.