Disclaimer: It's not mine. Don't own it.
Summary: They call him the human jukebox….
Author's note: After a long pause, I finally got the inspiration for another fic. It's a little different that the other ones I wrote. Enjoy! And English isn't my mother tongue.
Human Jukebox
Standing in the living room in the middle of the night. Like he always did.
Staring in the emptiness. Like lost soul.
Creating a perfect new world in his mind. Like he was running from something. (The boredom of life maybe.)
Seeing a big black shape, with white lashes. Like a predator observing his prey.
Walking slowly, carefully towards the shape. Like hypnotized.
Putting the bottle on the top of the big thing. Like a lighthouse lighting the lost boats.
Sitting down on a leather stool. Like every ordinary men in the world. (But he is not ordinary.)
Pressing on one of the white touches. Like he was pressing a lift button. Only smoother.
Hearing a graceful sound coming out. Like a beginning of a song.
Playing a melody. Like the melody of life.
Ending a few minutes later the nice melody. Like death. (Death is an ending for everything.)
Getting up and starting to walk back to his room. Like a ritual.
Taking the half empty bottle with him. Like the wind that takes away the leaves. (Or life that took away his strength.)
Watching the street through his window. Like watching the same movie over and over again.
Smiling in the dark. Like every lonely nights that he spend with his best friend.
Listening to the rain. Like pouring some liquid in the bottle. (Again.)
Forgetting all the problems. Like cleaning up a table.
Drowning his pain in alcohol. Like a rock sinking in water. ( Relief has never been so liquid. )
Thinking of what went wrong. Like an old Wiseman.
Wondering if angels really exist. Like a man who lost faith. (Or perhaps that he never had any.)
Drinking the last sip of the bottle. Like it was some remedy.
Lying in his bed.
Closing his eyes.
Being alone in his darkness. Like always. (Loneliness is his constant companion.)
Human Jukebox he is. Alone in his music he shall be. Maybe, someday, he'll see an angel who understands him. ( Hope is an illusion. )
FIN