The city was a beacon of hope for those who searched for a new beginning. Alex knew that much.
He sat on his worn-down wooden chair rocking back and forth, looking at the heavy rain. The steam and air pollution fill his lung every time he takes a tired breath. From his balcony, once shining utopia, is now nothing but an old block and cement in his eyes, the skyscrapers used to shine and gleam from afore whilst standing on a small hillside, is now nothing but a dark, angry mist of clouds.
Alex checks his watch. It was 7:30 am, and he needs to get ready as he hops off his chair and shakes his head. Alex's messy hair flanges across his face. He was supposed to be at the grocery store at 6:00 am, but no one shows up to collect groceries and goodies nowadays. It was just him and a worn-down store that he didn't even try to make it in time for work. It was a miracle that he was one of the few that decided to stay in this godforsaken awful place. If it weren't for his childhood nostalgia and pity for this city, he would have been gone a long time ago.
After about an hour of standing in a cold shower doing nothing and eating a half-cooked egg, he was ready to start his day. Once he opens the front door of his apartment, the hard smell of copper and anthracite hits his nostril with a full force. He places his hoodie up as he walks across the street alone. No one, other than him is visible, only him and the rain. As he was walked, a thorn and worn-out paper flew across him. He only got to glace it, but he knew it was missing person report. He remembered this person. Well, at least he thinks he does. The facial structure and the smile were all too familiar to him, but he never gets to remember his name. John or was it, Jean? At this point, it was even useless to try and wonder.
The mass disappearance of young people around the same age as Alex has been reported across the City. At that time, there was mass panic in which the parent of those children would search every nook and cranny of this dead city, but with no avail. In the end, each of the parents and the City Attorney rolled it out as runaways.
"It makes sense." They said, as they urge people to leave this City, not wanting to acknowledge what they have done and unable to atone the reasoning of the Cities downfall.
Alex shakes his jacket, fixing it as he finally enters the grocery story; surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Alex's eyes widened as he saw his old friend mopping the floor. His friend looked at him, smiling as he dropped the mop and strolled towards him.
"How you been Alex?" He said with nothin but the longing in his eyes. Alex fumbles with his words, flabbergast to see him after a full year of wondering and searching.
"Clark? H-How are you here?" Clark grimaces "What do you mean? I'm here to help you. Everyone is, they have missed this City, this beautiful city where dreams come true." Alex scoffed, then Clark walked past him, towards the counter and began counting the shop's income.
"Ohh, Not a lot of people visiting, aren't they?"
"Yes," Alex nodded. He examines Clark's appearance, and he was in normal attire.
Clark shakes his head and looked through the window while squinting as hard as he can. "Others are coming."
"What?"
"Others. Don't you remember? When we left- we promised to return for you." Clark's voice changed, it was more of a distant whisper, yet he could hear him crystal clear. His friend takes off his gloves and throws it across the tile and looked at him. "We need to go."
"Where are we going, Clark? No, where have you been, why did you disappear?" said Alex.
"Somewhere, somewhere—our dream could thrive." Clark's eyes show no light as he stares right into Alex. He gulps a lump in his throat. He can feel a cold sweat dripping at the back of his spine.
"It was beautiful." Clark chimed, and Alex didn't get it, this city that Clark kept claiming beautiful is nothing but a dump and sore to a human eye. Clark always said he hated this place, this place took everything from him, his parent, his sister, his well being and opportunity for a most fabulous life. Yet here he was praising it.
"It's not beautiful Clark. That's why you left! That's why you hated this place, and you wanted to burn it into the ground! Who are you? Don't you remember how much you lost?" Alex was livid, he had no idea why he screamed, but he did. Perhaps he was fed up and frustrated that for a year, alone in this dump, the anger finally got to him. Clark only looked at him with his soulless eyes, and he wonders if it's even the real Clark.
"Who are you?" Alex weakly asked.
"I'm Clark. We will remember this City as a vibrant, beautiful place, rather than the perpetual hell it had become. The people who are doomed to die here—suffer the consequences of their action. They are the reasoning of this cursed City’s damnation, and we, as the younger generation, had suffered the aftermath. We cannot endure this any longer." Alex felt sick; the honesty of their living situation and lost promise of this City is too much to keep from. Clark pointed at the window, and he sees a people cloaked in the darkness of the rain, each individual he knew that had disappeared. They are standing in the middle of heavy rain, soaked to the bone—all standing with no life.
"There is no hope and future here for you, Alex. This place has been forgotten since its inception. Whoever comes here, they’ll have their life, ambition and goals sucked out of them as if a vampire has bitten into their jugular. This place will never gain another soul, Alex. You have to be the last." Clark explained.
"What good does it make. People are curious animals, and some young soul would want to know about its existence. Then what? Have this City take another soul too?" he looked at his hand, filled with scars and dirt. It used to be soft and white, now it worn down, old, and he's only twenty-four years old, and he cursed the City for it.
"They will never live here. Today is the days of its end. The Silver City Is gone, so are you." Clark knew what he wanted; deep down, he wanted to leave and live free and happy. But remembering this City and what it had done to him, he couldn't do it. He couldn't live with such a pang of guilt and pain. This City should be forgotten, not remembered.
Alex walked outside of the store, feeling the raindrops on his face and breaths in the horrid smell of pollution. Among the missing people, his sister smiled at him with lifeless eyes. He knew what he must do, and he was willing to do it. He ran towards his sister like a three-year-old child, and she embraced him with her warm hug, even though soulless and wet, she was warm.
"I missed you, Joanna. Where have you been?" Alex felt small. He was only three years old when she left, and he doesn't remember her much, but her warm hug was always a pleasant place to be.
"Let's go, Alex. Let's go where we could be remembered." Alex closed his eyes.
Addison stares across the hill and observing the weirdly-shaped clouds. Shapes that resembles the skyscrapers of the lost city. Addison wondered what had once been across the mountains, the tale and stories his grandparent used to tell, burn into his memory as he wanders through his own mind. What makes him so pushed and pulled towards this one particular mountain of clouds?
Addison shakes himself and takes a step towards the clouds, ascending down the hill. Wanting to please his thirst for the knowledge of the Forgotten Cities.
It will be just another day of exploration.