The collapse: Forced to Abandon

Chapter 3: Forced to Abandon

I’ve been wondering who else is swallowing this compound of horror, anger, pain and bewilderment, and the only effect it takes is to force them stand through the whole nightmare. One by one, all sorts of ships roll by in pretend haste, taking over each other once in a while with only the intention to exhibit the bizarre that has been newly found.

Screams and laughter converge to explain it to the full in a joint effect. Mass shootout goes wild while policemen can be seen having fun dragging pray-crying people with chains behind a hurtling ship; Desks and chairs get hurled out alongside the sloping ground and tumble upon bodies of teachers and students before one more attempt into the sea; Some adherents are busy chasing broken statues of their gods that jolts around a temple for the others engage into destroying them; Man seen craning or crawling into great dark hollow with nothing but women’s screech…

Winds cut through my face. I can merely endure all these in the eyes for it seems like the moment I let go of my clutch to the door I will be swing away into the roaring world. Even though our ship has hurtled by several more ships, we can never get rid of violent noises, not only from the bottom where the unfortunate are on the crashing boats, but also from the middle of building where scuffles break out.

“Stop it!” a neighbor shouts to one of the involved. “It’s too dangerous! Let him have it!”

“You help or shut the fuck up! I’m not letting any fucking stranger do anything to my own property!”

A gunshot blasts as a man fall off into the water. With almost one millennium seconds of silence, the blast turns into hundreds, along with anything droppable, from people who are standing against their apartment. I stumble down onto the floor, and look up to see ‘giant spiders’ are crawling up the building wall as if their lives don’t matter. Those ‘giant spiders’ emerge through cracks or window, draw up to slanted balconies stepping on resisters bodies, or hiding behind the ruins to exchange fires. Some of them even run into the building and smash residents’ doors in an attempt to inspire a fair fight.

My apartment is no exception of this resistance. I break a broom down to rod for poking those tearing the soft burglar mesh of my balcony, or raising the iron ladder to scare them downward. But most of the time, they fall victim of bullets and droppings, so I can have spare time in wielding a fake shotgun to those bumping onto my iron-glass door.

As the shootings go, the dire begging of ‘Let us on board!’ or ‘Stop shooting’ distinguishes itself from the vicious cursing. They’re obviously from some newly downed ships, trying to hold the trunk or blocks that come close to water for a new shelter, but the effort always gets snuffed by the all-resistant fight, which sooner end up in horrible screams from ships all around.

“Another fall down! Another fall down!”

“Everyone off board now!”

But the fall down happens way ahead our human instincts! Sound of collisions breaks into our ears and almost cut our awareness. I’m pulled down by the direction the ship tumbles and hit hard on the cupboard upon the coach. A few seconds later, it wavers a little and the whole place is shut down to gloomy dark.

Regardless of the pain on the back, I struggle up to the window. Miserably several columns of light tunnel down through gaps above, and water sounds resonate around. Nonetheless, only after the help of several more flashlights from ships in front and behind us did lines and patterns strike bold. By judging from the environment, some of the ships have been crammed into a giant cave.

“Are we safe now?” I hear the words from a person standing opposite my balcony.

“I don’t know. But maybe, we can climb out when all is over.” A man answers.

“However,” a woman’s voice interludes “If water goes up again, we all have to dive long enough before we can find out the countable exits, and that should be stated under the situation that the floating are not in the way of them.”

“It seems like we’re still moving.” Someone points his flashlight to the passing trees. “I hope that we’re not heading to another big fall off.”

“That’s because it’s not us but something else is going to fall down.” Flashlights start to shiver all over at the top, leaving us to be stunned by long rugged streak of ship hulks ceiling with creaking structures and hangings that are dripping.

“Hush! Don’t wake it up.” Another person strains his voice to avoid a crash that is sleeping above him. “We must be safe through the exit.”

Everyone keeps quiet with lights shutting off, in fear of a small wiggling of light can disturb the situation. The streaming of the liquid can be felt and heard accelerated, rushing under the ships and pumping through people’s hearts. I stay crouching beside the banister, like a prey sneaking pass a giant net.

The light at the front is tearing bigger and bigger, and seemingly at those of the ceiling. But the mind of survival thrills the streaming water. When it’s craving to rush out, a sudden bump hits from where we come in, causing the remnant of buildings to quivering down upon the marching ships. These poor sufferers start to fall left or right, or are halfway crushed like the giant building I’m in.

The exit of this cave is anywhere near. Ships before us squeeze out of the exit and vanish fast out of sight. With another bump from the back, our ship comes dashed out from the narrow cave to the blinding light. When I turn around to the exit, it has been blocked and stuffed by larger ships, promising an angry outburst of all the pain inside.

Our ship has just goes back into the hug of the sea, with ever-changing neighbors and mind-boggling incidents. But this time, the viewing has grown more unsteady. Greater part of the building on ship has been broken, any moment from now, it would be the potential threat for all the people on board. That’s why I’m seeing some people climb out of their balcony and slide down to the bottom, then jump into smaller boats before losing behind the trend, or they’re merely repeating the fate of ‘the giant spiders’.

I sweep the bag up, but my foot is like too heavy a stone. The very same room, the place I’ve been staying for almost two decades, has been shattered into pieces, not a slightest sign of keeping. But where should I go? Choices are out there everywhere for me, but none of them belongs to the place above. How I wish I can sit here all day, not hustling or jumping around, just watching things go by. I might even spend some time mocking the hilarious or playing with my passing thoughts. But the fact is, the words of the world will finally come overwhelmingly to pose a dispel magic to you.

A burst of cheering breaks off when a ship is being shoved backward into the sea. The cheerers are waving their hands with pieces of money-size paper in them.

“Jackpot!” one of them yells “Now give me the money, dude! I knew it! ”

“Now one more round!” another shouts, “Which one is going to sink first?”

“That one!” A man immediately throws his finger directly to the ship I’m aboard, and happens to fall upon me.

Not having the time for countering back, I’m tossed to the end of my balcony. The whole body of the building is running vertical with a sharp dive. Without second thought, I scramble up the banister hoping to get higher, but I’m eventually compelled to give up within the shutting mouth of tumbling blocks and raging sea.

The precipitate silence softly wraps me around and alluring me down so that I can hear the buzzing in my head. 'What if I don’t struggle? And, what’s that explosion?'

‘Hush,’ I said to myself “I’m thinking.”