"So are you just planning to die? You know that's what will happen if you don't get up, right?"

A childish voice suddenly calls out to Eli. It's bright and innocent, without a hint of fear or worry. Despite speaking of Eli's imposing death, his tone is light. His frivolousness is further amplified by his subtle lisp. Has he always been there, and Eli just didn't notice him? Or has he just arrived? Whatever the case, the boy stands just beyond Eli's line of sight. Despite what must be considerable distance between the two of them, the boy sounds as if he's speaking directly into his ear. As he lays motionless, among the heaps of trash, flies and other various insects surround his lifeless body. Eli's skin crawls as he feels the hundreds of legs travel across his bruised flesh. The longer he spends in silence, the heavier the weight of the world feels as it presses itself against him. Time wanes on, and solitude returns to the dirty alleyway.

"Get up. Did you really expect to build a new life without any minor setbacks?"

Completely oblivious to the sheer exhaustion that racks him, a different, more mature voice suddenly calls out to Eli. Though far older than the child from before, it carries a subtle resemblance. Eli is far too tired to consider who could possibly be trying to speak to him at this point in time, and simply chooses to ignore the man's words. The man sighs. Eli wants nothing more than to just give up and lay there, rotting away slowly among the waste and trash of those that came before him. As though sensing his intentions, the child suddenly pipes up.

"You're still alive! Isn't that enough? You should be happy with what you have!"

"The kid is right. Lying there uselessly won't get you anywhere. Seriously, what's the point of running away if you give up and go home a couple hours after leaving?"

Eli flicks his finger in annoyance. Such a motion somehow turns into him waving his entire arm around, as though to swat away the two annoying voices that buzz around him more than the flies. His actions seem to excite the older man, as he suddenly cackles in a mocking belly laugh.

"Do you understand now? You've lost everything. Get over it, kid."

Eli's body stiffens once again before suddenly releasing the tension and limply ceasing his struggles. The man grows quiet, as though disgusted by the young man's lack of drive. Desperately, with a frantic edge to his voice, the child calls out.

“That’s not true!”

His voice breaks as a sob threatens to loosen. Is it innocence, or does the boy have some other goal with his actions? Whatever the reason, he seems intent on motivating the young man.

"What the hell do you mean? There’s nothing left! It’s all gone! Stop trying to give him false hope!"

As if pouncing on an opportunity, the child confidently declares, "Nuh-uh! Check your pocket!", to which Eli has no choice but to groggily respond by reaching into his coat pocket with slow movements. A sudden burst of adrenaline courses through his veins. He has no idea why, but faintly, he senses what amounts to a hint of suspense. He has no idea what to expect. Is it the uncertainty itself that interests him? It's possible. In his monotonous life, never before has he felt this way. He can't help but be curious as to what is even happening. What will he find? Will something even be there? His mind is a blank canvas of expectation, silently waiting to be painted on.

His fingers touch something. It’s cold, and hard, and though not very big it carries a bit of weight with it. I… don’t remember bringing this with me… The small metal object takes shape in the white expanse of Eli’s mind. A rectangular box. A tarnished box of silver with its edges crusted in rust. Engraved into its surface are the eroded remnants of two initials, lost to time, faded away forever. Eli feels a stirring in his heart, a painful jabbing that pierces through the outer shell and stirs about the mushy interior with a ruthless persistence. Tears well up in his eyes as he slowly withdraws the aged lighter, tilting his head downward as a faint glimmer of life fills his darkened pupils.

“How…? How did you get in there?”

His voice, ever faint, quivers in emotion, the grief and dismay soaking through like a towel in the rain. How long has it been? Years? The small object is out of fuel, yet it ignites the faintest ember of resistance within the young man's frozen heart.

"Get up! Can’t you see? If you have this, you can keep going! This isn’t the end!"

The small child calls out joyfully, practically skipping around Eli's head. Though failing to make a sound or even be visible, Eli senses his presence with absolute clarity. The fact that he's not completely alone, that he can suffer in the presence of others in this brief moment of time, warms his soul like a comforting blanket. As Eli listens to the giggling voice, he slowly draws the lighter closer to him, its dulled form almost shimmering in the nearly nonexistent light as he drags it to his chest. He presses the cold metal into the rags that serve as clothes. A tear leaks from his eyes, blistering hot, nearly steaming.

"Come on, Eli! Get up!"

“I-I can’t!”

"What do you mean you can't? Get up!"

There’s two voices shouting now. Both voices overlap as they seem to reach an understanding and unanimously agree to pressure Eli. He trembles at the power in their voices. The commanding tone they use shakes him to his core. Strangely, as if he’s concretely concluded to die here, Eli trembles and shakes his head. Despite the warmth in his heart, the rest of his body is cold. This is a cruel world. If he tries to continue on heedlessly, without even the hint of a future in sight, he'll be swallowed up, consumed by a pain that far surpasses what he feels now. His whispering voice raises, his dry throat raw and sore.

“And then what…? There’s nothing I can do… What… What was I thinking? Why did I choose to give up everything I had?”

"It’s not right for you to live like that! You don’t deserve a life like that! Stand up and make your own life! You don’t need anything other than that lighter to move onwards! So go! Stand up!"

The roaring voices crash into his ears like thunder. The shock pulls him to his feet like a marionettist tugging a puppet's strings. The swaying Eli leans heavily against the nearby wall, breathing harshly.

“Now… what?”

Despite fulfilling their wishes, the voices refuse to answer. A cold wind blows through the narrow tunnel. No matter how many times he calls out to them, neither voice responds. He looks around. The alley entirely empty. The trash and other waste isn't scattered, as he had expected. Instead, the alley looks completely untouched, the only areas of disturbance are where Eli and his pursuers moved around in, near the entrance of the alley.

“I must be going insane.”

Looking around, Eli takes in his surroundings. The brick walls are covered in graffiti and old decaying posters, with heaps of trash piled up at the base. The sheer amount of excess waste reminds him of his own house, with the broken furniture and mountains of bags. Further down the alley, past the buzzing flies and nests of squeaking rats, an area opens up, giving Eli a view of a shimmering blackness. What’s that? He wonders, drawn to the strangely persistent darkness.

With lunging steps, Eli holds himself against the wall, dragging his bruised and bloodstained body through the mounds of filth. The perfuming stench wafts into his nose, filling his nostrils with its pungent odor. As he nears the shifting shadows, a sound tickles his eardrums, a dull roar that faintly vibrates his feet beneath him. Ah… It’s a river… He hasn’t explored his neighborhood extensively, but even the heavily sheltered Eli knows that there’s no river near his home. Where am I? Stepping forward once again, he continues to walk, until he reaches the edge of the alley and comes face to face with the black shore of the river.

“Ah… I was so close…”

Had he been able to escape from the alley, he could have jumped into the river. And though he may not know how to swim, he’d have a better chance at keeping all of his stuff than otherwise. He’s sure that nobody would have followed him into these black waters.

“I was… so… close…”

Regret. The overwhelming uselessness he feels nearly consumes him. He’d been so close. The possibility of a bright future had been right here, and yet, he just couldn’t keep going. Was he too weak? Did he give up too easily? Could he have done something better? The endless possibilities all congeal inside his heart, forming a numbing, void-like regret. Before he can drown in self-hatred, however, his fist unconsciously clenches the rusted lighter. Ah, that’s right. There’s still hope. His heart reinvigorated ever slightly, Eli steps forward, escaping the dark alley where his future died. His feet sink into the grime infested mud. Eli looks around, his neck aching painfully all the while.

“I should find a place to sleep. I can’t go on much longer.”

Though both his mind and body may be pushed past their absolute limits, Eli is able to make rational thoughts, his linear thinking moving from one objective to the next. As he walks along the shore, his eyes scan the backs of the towering buildings. He watches the gaping maws of the nearby alleyways with suspicion. Eventually, he comes across a bridge. The bridge forms almost mystically out of the encroaching darkness.

Through the overhead clouds, faint light shines through, but even that isn’t strong enough to completely outline the massive bridge that crosses the roaring fissure of water. The metal bridge crouches like some wild beast, tall and imposing, with jagged beams and sharp edges. Thinking that it’d be smart to sleep under the bridge, to avoid any bad weather, Eli approaches the colossal structure, faintly feeling a sense of apprehension. The possibility of running into some unseen danger terrifies him, but his fear of the rain, of the terrible corruption that destroys everything in sight, urges him onwards. Eli reaches the bridge, craning his neck upwards to fully take in the size.

As he looks around, something catches his eyes. Near the edge of the river, underneath the protective cover of the bridge, is a small bump of a hill. As he’s standing on the shoreline, he’s capable of viewing the side of the hill that faces the water, and because of that, he can see that there’s a rather large pit in the side of it. Feeling as if said pit is calling out to him, Eli approaches. As he's nearing the entrance, his footsteps become increasingly painful. His wounds from earlier flare up, sending bolts of fire through his limbs as his lead filled feet pound against the ground. His every step leaves an indentation in the mud, but his quickly fading consciousness is too tired to even care about erasing any traces of his existence. His loud stomps wane in intensity, until he’s stumbling, falling, careening towards the black pit that opens like a portal to the underworld.

His mud caked socks slide against the ground, flinging his limp body through the air. Finally, with a solid thud, Eli slides into the pit. His reddened eyes groggily attempt to take in their surroundings, the very act painful in of itself. What information he does manage to glean from the movement informs him that what he mistakenly thought to be a pit, is in fact a cave of some sort, hidden from the outside world.

As this understanding drips into his brain, Eli feels his consciousness waning. His heart slows, and his sense of panic fades. The pit of anger and sorrow are quickly forgotten as he finds himself falling away from the conscious realm. Just as Eli slips into the warm darkness, he faintly senses movement. Movement originating from deeper inside the shadow cloaked cave.