The Man of Faith

The bloody lift is always malfunctioning. He kicked the steel frame with a vulgar slang. He was a man of faith. Decent and always looking at life from a positive perspective. His head ached while he was climbing the stairs. His world was upside down. It was a filthy old building. The placed smelled of rust, and the air was dense. The stairs were like a snake coiled up after digesting its prey. The bulb flickered every once a while in its efforts to keep the darkness of the night away. 

The stairs were littered with used cans and cigarette bud. There were a few traces of the grill along the staircase that used to exist sometime. The walls were dark as a single bulb was making a feeble attempt to keep the stairway alight. The walls must-have been painted white when the building was built, but now the colour has faded with traces of dampness all around. The pale yellow colour shines in the light and displays its art of pathetic graffiti and useless adverts that are placed around the wall.

His head ached as his anger got replaced with sadness. He was never like that, despite him being an introvert all his life, he was respected in all of his social circles. He had earned a unique kind of respect, and people were always coming to him whenever they need a direction. He always felt pride in his ability to listen to people and guide them in a proper direction. He had always sensed the pain and willingly or unwillingly has helped the people. It was always supposed to be this way and not the other way around; he thought as sprinkles of tear appeared in his eyes. He felt so lost. This phase came hard on him, and even though he was battling it right and hard for the past six months, he is now on the verge of giving up. He literally feels that all the doors are closing upon him except for the door of expectations which people have from him and no matter how hard he tries to keep them up, he fails. It was tough because he was trying so hard for the past few months, but all his efforts were going to waste, and all was left was people who felt disappointed in him.

 He reached the rooftop. The tight and dense stairway has now come to an end. The steel door creaked as he pushed the door hard. The building was seemed to be built half a century ago, and the upkeep was worst. The primary purpose of the building was to host as many tenants as it can which leaves the spaces like stairway really tight. The forty-six-floor building was a huge mess. As the door clanged open, the night sky came into view. It was 3 am, but the night sky wasn’t visible. He looked at the dense red sky. Living in a city has its perks, but they all came with a price. He had always admired the night sky, remembering the time of his childhood when he used to lie with his mother who used to show her the night sky and they used to name the stars. There was one specific star which was most probably the north star that his mother has told her will always be there to look at you and guide you towards heaven. After he lost his mother, it was his only source of guidance for years. He always looked at the star and devised a plan. Today, the star wasn’t visible. It was as if the star was also disappointed in him. 

 “No one cares about my efforts, all they want are results” he yelled. 

The red sky shimmered with the lights of the city. The atmosphere was dense with polluted city air and traces of clouds. There was no sign of the horizon. The rooftop was a mess of rusty pipes and electric cables. The place was never a resort for its tenants, and hardly anyone comes up. There was a huge water tank on the side of the roof, and traces of water were making their way along as the leaks in the pipes were evident. The traces of algae can be seen even in the darkness of night along the rusty pipes.

He came to the edge of the building. The city was alive as there were tons of cars going in all directions on the road down below. The excessive honking of horns was evident. The light in the buildings nearby was shimmering as if there was no effect of the night on the people of the city. He felt as if all the darkness has gone inside him. The words of his wife were ringing in his ear. It took him much effort to be able to speak up for him. He was never used to expressing his pain, his suffering to the world. It was the feeling of letting go that made him express himself. His wife always was posting stuff on social media that says that she is available for anyone who was feeling suicidal. He took the courage to express himself. She kept on using her phone while listening to his misery and all she could say was to mock his feelings by calling him a daddy’s princess who wants attention all the time. It was her words that made him let go, the icing on the top. He tried to end his misery once and for all. 

He looked down, his faith shattered. He felt emotions and numb as the night breeze stuck him. It was like the time has stopped. Everything was frozen. The city became quiet. The whizzing of air conditioning units, the tipping of water and the honks of cars, all became silent. It was only him and the city. His heartthrob, he slowly stepped on the boundary wall. He felt like a bird, which was going solo on its flight. The freedom touched his heart; it was like death itself came down to encapsulate him with his warmth. He glanced up, into the sky, in an effort to find the traces of Valkyrie that might have come to take him. He smiled in satisfaction. His faith has been shattered; he was a lost man. As the final realization of his actions hit him, the voices came back, the headache came back, and a power dragged him back. He never believed in giving up. He was so vocal in his idea that giving up never ends the game. How can he defy his own self?

 He fell back on the floor. His pain echoed through his ears. He was the man of faith, broken beyond repair yet still alive. 

The story was originally published in The Meraki Magazine
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