Ok folks, I wrote this when i was in high school, some 4 or more years ago. This story was written in a different time in my life and the mood reflects that. Suggestions for the title are welcomed. There are still a few gramatical issues and at one point i was thinking of adding a chapter, but once the story was written, i found myself no longer able to connect with the mindset or emotional body of the main character, rendering it impossible to continue. Hopefully, it will be decently recieved. Thanks for your time.

Chapter One
The tower had always stood, erect and luminous. No one living in the town could really remember its construction. The obvious physical degradation kept most people away. The broken clock face placed at the top of the tower only added to the dark image. Yet the tower saw all. It saw the birth and death of countless people, the construction and destruction of countless buildings. The town changed as much as the seasons. Yet the tower remained constant, and for reasons unknown. It was not that the people of the town were afraid to tear down the decrepit building, but more that they were afraid to lose a part of their heritage. The tower had become somewhat of a symbol to the people, a symbol of an everlasting bond between man and time, and how one cannot exist without the other.

It was an unusually cool summer morning and Malikye was on a walk. He always went for a walk as dawn began to creep over the horizon. He felt at peace within that time frame. He walked his usual path, which took him through the commercial district of town, past the town hall and into the surrounding forest. It took him about twenty minutes to reach the old well west of the main path. He often stopped here to toss small stones into the well. It was a simple pastime, and one that he enjoyed. With each stone thrown into the well, he would envision a negative thought or feeling going with that stone. It was a good release for him. But today, he continued past the well in a hurry, almost anticipating a surprise at the end of his journey. Slowing his pace substantially, he arrived at his destination, the clock tower. Not a brick had moved since he had last visited his old friend. The ever-growing vines continued to creep and seep through the cracks in the walls and faceplate of the clock. The inside of the tower was dark and damp despite the holes in the roof. Graffiti, and carvings riddled the tower’s many levels, as years of abuse and neglect piled up.

“It is nothing special,” Malikye thought, “just an object.” But he could not help but fall in love with it. His continual visits drew him closer and closer to the heart of the tower, and farther away from his outside life. He asked himself constantly if his other life outside the tower had any actual direction, and if it was worth his attention. He was not good looking or anything special by his standards. He always tried hard to be as far away from any form of social grouping as possible. And it worked. People paid no attention to him and he enjoyed it. His black hair and hazel eyes were not out of the ordinary. He was not well built, but instead tall and rather thin. He dressed all in black with the occasional shade of blue or blood red. His complexion was pale, despite the considerable time he spent outside. The only really unique thing about him was his ability to stand alone in a crowd. A talent he had developed over time.


He approached the entrance at the front. The door, slightly off its hinges, made a very loud creaking sound when he pushed against it. It took quite a bit of strength out of him just to open the door. “Boy, they sure don’t make them like they used to,” he whispered to himself after he had caught his breath. The sunlight from the outside world was pouring through various cracks in the walls and through the open doorway in which he stood. His shadow was cast upon the floor and up the opposing wall, mimicking every movement he made. The floors were barren, and constructed of hard wood. Nails poked up from many of the floorboards and some did not even have nails to hold them in place. All were in some state of decay, but not to the extent that anyone walking on them was in any immediate danger. The walls were littered with people’s ideas of fun - graffiti and a number of holes punched into the walls were visible to anyone entering the tower. To his right, was the entrance to a small kitchenette, created for the persons who would tend the tower, though it was no longer in service, and staircase leading to the next floor of the tower. Searching for where his next adventure would come from, Malikye knew where to go.

He walked over to the staircase and began to climb them one at a time. The creaking of the stairs was almost melodic to his ears. It was a sound that he recognized as friendly, almost as if the tower was saying a loud “Hello Malikye, welcome back.” That thought was comforting to him. Malikye knew that the tower would hold no grudges against him and would not judge his thoughts, beliefs, or actions. The tower was his friend from morning to night, day after day, no matter what.

He stopped at the second floor, looking around to see if anything had changed. Nothing, not one thing was out of place. Everything was in the same place, just as he had left it the previous night. He could even see his own footprints in the heavy layer of dust that rested on the floor. The decaying table in the center of the room was surrounded by three chairs, which suggested that this room acted as a dining area. The only light source left in this room was a cabal of candlesticks on the table and the light that was flooding the staircase from the room below. Malikye knew he had a number of floors to go before he reached the top. Just the mere thought of going to the top floor seemed to fill Malikye with thoughts of creativity and excitement. He pulled his flashlight out in anticipation of the darkness that awaited him on the upcoming floors and made a dash for the staircase just behind him. Stair by stair, floor by floor, Malikye did not stop to look around or take in any of the sights the tower had to offer.

When he reached the seventh floor he stopped running. Slightly out of breath, he walked across the empty rectangular room and over to the west side, where the one window the tower actually possessed lay imbedded in the wall. It was circular in shape and divided into four even parts. Three of the windowpanes had been broken, probably by a group of kids with rocks and a lot of time. The border of the window was intricately carved into a rose pattern, but years of decay and neglect had left the pattern looking faded and distorted. Malikye often sat here and traced the pattern with his fingers, over and over, as the sun set in the distance. A sense of euphoria always washed over him when he watched the sun set from this window. He felt that this window, which was surrounded by so much darkness, was the heart of the tower. It felt as if all the creative energies that had once been apart of this tower had either dissipated or fled into this windowsill.

His watch began to beep at him rapidly. It was now seven o’clock, and he had to be home by eight-thirty. It was only a forty-minute walk, so he knew he had enough time to explore what the dawn’s light had brought. He left the window and walked over to the staircase at the opposite side of the room and began to climb once more. He counted the steps, as if expecting a change from the last time, but no such change had occurred. There were still seventeen steps, just like all the other staircases in the tower. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, he smiled as relief washed over him. He had finally returned to his true home. The only place he felt free to create and destroy.

Malikye took great care of this floor. It was the only one he actually cleaned, top to bottom. The room was spotless, minus some melted candle wax that had dripped onto the table from the previous night. Before, this room had been a utility area, and the room to the left was the gear room for the clock face. But now, Malikye had placed a bed just barely big enough for two people in the far right corner of the room and a nightstand beside it. He had placed a cozy table in the middle of the room for eating whatever food he felt like bringing with him, and a writing desk in the far left corner of the room. The roof was absent in many places, making sleeping and living in here a bit of a chore on cold or rainy days, but Malikye did not mind. Besides, the roof over his bed was solid, and he had yet to experience a problem with rain blowing across the room and hitting him. But the most noticeable aspect of this room was the sizable chunks of separating wall missing from beside and around Malikye’s writing desk. The wall that separated this room from the gear room for the clock had a lot of structural damage. In fact it almost looked purposely damaged. Holes in the wall allowed shadows of the old clock hands to play against the walls at night. This intrigued Malikye and he would often envision the hands going back in time, and the room reconstructing itself to pristine condition. He would imagine the way the room must have looked when it was first constructed and he could almost feel the original staff within it. Time was always relative here. He would lose himself in thought here, and often felt himself drifting away into a world in which he had control. “Control.” He spoke aloud. “Something I’ve always been lacking. But here…” His watch beeped, interrupting his thoughts. With a long sigh he looked at the time; it was eight o’clock. He knew he had to get moving, but so much resistance had already made its presence within him. He just couldn’t leave his spot. “Five more minutes,” he thought, “just five more minutes and I’ll leave.”

His watch beeped violently yet again. It was his third alarm; he paused for a second, slowly coming back to reality, then looked down at his wrist. A spurt of terror rushed through him. It was eight-fifteen, and that meant he was running late, very late. Malikye turned towards the stairs and said goodbye to the tower, changing his slow walk into a mad dash. Each stair brought the shocking realization that he had to go home, back to reality.

Chapter Two

It wasn’t until he reached the tall grass that surrounded the forest line that he realized just how far he had to go. He walked the same trails almost everyday for years and still never left himself enough time to make it home. The path through the tall grass was man made, but he was never sure just who made it and the path never seemed to overgrow, as if nature was parting her way for Malikye.

The only problem with his usual rout was he had to pass through part of town, something he always hated. He picked his pace up to a slow jog as he reached the edge of the grass line and headed towards town, hopping that his blurred surroundings would pass without event. It was a day like every other in the town, people were rushing to work, the busses were filled, and the streets were locked with cars in an intricate ballet of horns and fists. Tension and anger lay humid in the air, as if coming from the sun, which had now, began its slow climb to supremacy.

Malikye weaved his way through the herd of people that were traveling against his direction. He had gotten good at avoiding people, he new all the alleyways and short cuts. But regardless of the shortcuts he took, he still had to make it across town, and he was already late. He was already on Main Street within 15 minutes, which was a miracle in itself with the traffic around him. He was close to his house when she caught his glance. Malikye had known her from a distance for years but was too lost in his mind to feel like there was a point in talking to her. Maybe she was out of his league, maybe she was too cool, or maybe she just had no desire to talk to him. The reasons just stacked in his mind and he brushed off the idea normally, but something was different today. She was waiting at the entrance to a store that from first glace appeared to be closed.

Malikye drew closer to the store and he realized that the store was actually open and the girl, Andréa, was just window-shopping. He was almost right beside her when his mind froze and he couldn’t stop himself from walking right past her and into the store. Thankfully the store he just walked into happened to be the one he frequently visited, it was the only new age store in town. He walked over to the bookstands and began to browse, keeping an eye on the window and the door, waiting to hear the familiar ding of the bell above the door as it opens. He waited for about 5 minutes for her to come in, but she never did. He was a bit upset when he realized that she had walked away but he wasn’t surprised. “I don’t even know why I got my hopes up. What would I say to her when she walked in? We’ve never talked before; hell I don’t even know if she’s ever noticed me. I guess it doesn’t matter, we’re different people anyway.” He smiled at the clerk behind the desk and left the store and continued his walk home.

It was at least 8:45 and that meant Malikye was about as late as it got for breakfast. “I guess I’ve missed my chance to get a home cooked meal, not like there wont be another one I’ll be forced to attend anyways.” He thought to himself as he approached “The Fallen Arches” bar, grill, and eatery. It was a very offbeat type of place to eat; it was constructed with weird angles and rooms. Malikye figured this was the reason it was almost empty every time he went there, but the food was good and the company was even better. He walked in and greeted Jessica, the owner of the place, with a slight smile and a hello. “I’ll just take my usual breakfast over at the back table.” Malikye spoke with a calm demeanor, which was a welcomed change from the usual crowd of rushed people that stopped in for a coffee on the go.

“Sure Malikye not a problem, it’ll be ready in about 10 minutes. Did you want anything to drink this morning?” Jessica asked with happy enthusiasm.

“Actually sure, I wouldn’t mind some chocolate milk today, if you’ve got it that is, and if its not too big of deal” Malikye replied with a broader smile on his lips, just happy for the simple conversation.

“For you Malikye, nothing is too big of a deal. I’ll bring it over to ya in a couple of minutes.” Jessica disappeared into the back and began to work on his order as Malikye headed to the back of the restaurant.

He grabbed a paper that was sitting on another table along the way, sat down, and began to read about the day’s hot issues. There was nothing pressing happening and there rarely was. The headlines were about the library dedication that happened the other day. It was supposed to be a big event with most of the town there, but it didn’t seem all that important, definitely not to be the banner headlines. He herd a noise when we has about half way down the page, it was the front door opening. Malikye glanced up and saw someone unexpected; it was Andréa. She walked over to the tables and took her time choosing where she was going to sit. Malikye managed to catch her eyes as she was sitting down and he smiled shyly and a bit in shock as she smiled back at him.

“Is anyone sitting with you?” The words she spoke were muffled in his head.

“I…Uh…No, no ones sitting with me.” He mutters and stumbled along his words, just barely able to comprehend what was going on.

Andréa chuckled a bit and asked, “Well, then can I sit with you? Or would you rather just be alone?”

“No, no, you can sit with me. I’m alone enough as it is, I’d love the company.” The words just slipped out, he didn’t want to say them but he had no control over his speech while in her presence.

“Your Malikye right? I’ve seen you around before, at school and around town I mean.”

“Ya that’s me, wait, you know my name? I honestly didn’t even think you knew who I was. I mean, we don’t really know any of the same people or go to the same places.”

Andréa got up and walked over to Malikye’s table, pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “Ya I know your name. We’ve only gone to the same school for five years.”

“Actually we’ve been going to the same school for about 7 years, but it doesn’t matter. So what were you doing at the new age shop earlier?”

Jessica arrived with Malikye’s food and his chocolate milk and set it down in front of him. “There you go Malikye the usual, peanut butter on toast, three pancakes and some bacon. Can I get your lady friend something to eat or drink?”

“Can I just get a cup of coffee please?”

“Sure thing Hun, coming right up.” Jessica winked at Malikye before she left to get Andréa’s coffee.

Andréa looked back at Malikye “Well I was checking that new age shop out because I’m sort of interested in a lot of that stuff. I actually didn’t really know we even had a place like that in this town. How often do you visit that shop?”

“Oh since it opened I think. I’ve been into the occult for years, and I was ecstatic to learn that a new age shop was moving here, so I made it a point to go to the store as much as I could to support it. I figured there aren’t many, if any, people that would really have an interest in that kind of stuff.” Jessica made a quick intervention with Andréa’s coffee then quickly returned to the back.

“Ya I don’t think there are too many people around here that really have any remote interest into it. Too bad for them I guess.”

There conversation was just idle chat but Malikye didn’t care. He was still in a state of shock that she was talking to him, and instead of spoiling the moment with thoughts of inadequacy, he decided to revel in this moment. She was beautiful to him in everyway. She was kind and compassionate with a slender build and slightly tanned skin. Her hair was dyed a deep red, which brought out the brilliant green tone of her eyes. Her smile hit him like a summer’s breeze, cooling and relaxing. He had only been talking to her for 10 minutes and he felt so intoxicated by her. He didn’t want to leave but time was against him today. He promised his parents he’d be home.

Reluctantly, he stopped the conversation “Look, I hate to cut this short because I’m having a great time with you here, but I promised my parents I’d be home like almost an hour ago, and I really should get home.” Every word he spoke was coupled with the thought of possibly never having this chance again, but in his eyes, he had no choice.
“Well it’s too bad you have to go Malikye, I was having a really good time talking with you, but maybe I’ll get to see you around, maybe at the shop?”

Her question filled him with excitement “I can only hope, but if we don’t meet there, you know the clock tower on the edge of town? I’m normally there on the seventh floor or the highest level.”

“Isn’t that place dangerous? I mean, its been closed for how many years, like 34 or something right?”

“No it’s not dangerous at all, people just think it is because of the appearance, but the inside is actually pretty stable.”

“Well in that case I might just take a trip up there soon, hopefully I’ll catch you there.”

“I can’t wait.” Malikye let another shy smile slip from his lips as he left the table and headed for the door. Outside the door he paused for a second and chuckled to himself. “That was one of the best times I’ve had in this town.” The thought was kind of sad but comforting at the same time. He looked to his right down the street and started walking with a smile.

He slipped in the door unnoticed and thought he might be able to make it too his room without having to confront his parents. He moved as quietly as possible across the room and past the kitchen where he was sure they would be. His suspicions were right, they were at the table reading the same paper he had glanced at earlier. He moved past the entrance as quickly as possible when he was stopped by his mother’s voice. “And where exactly have you been for the past hour? You said you’d be home for breakfast, that was our deal, remember?”

Malikye remembered the deal very well; he would get to go to the tower whenever he wanted so long as he was back for family functions and meals. He wanted to make up an excuse, a fib, a lie, anything to get him out of sharing his reason for being late. He had nothing, not one idea that would pass off as a justifiable excuse, he had to come clean and tell them. “I met a girl.” He muttered unhappily.

“A girl? Who is she? What’s she like? Are you into the same things?” The slew of questions continued to pour out of her, and this was exactly what Malikye was trying to avoid.

“Let him be Lora, it’s none of our business so just let him go and do his thing.” Malikye’s father, Jason, spoke up so Malikye wouldn’t have to answer the questions his mother was spewing at him.

“Oh Jason I’m just curious, there’s no harm in that is there?” She looked at Malikye “besides, its not everyday that he meets someone new let alone a girl.”

“Your right mom, its not everyday that I meet someone, and when I do I don’t tell you specifically because of this situation we’re in right now. So can we please just drop it?” Malikye really did not want to talk about this it made him feel uncomfortable. Its not that he didn’t get along with his parents, he just felt no connection to them. He loved them as his parents, but felt nothing as their friend.

“Alright fine we don’t have to talk about it. Like everything else that goes on in your life it’ll just stay a mystery to me.” She spoke with hostility in her voice and went back to her paper.

Malikye turned around and went to his room; He needed to clear his head in solitude.


Chapter Three

The twilight did not seep through the blinds tonight, the clouds made sure of that, and there were no sweet dreams to fill his head. The steady ticking of his bedside clock kept the rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound of a slight rainfall only amplified the feeling, as he tossed and turned in bed. “Another sleepless night. Just what the hell is wrong with me?” The thought plagued his mind almost every night. But regardless of what he did, he could not come up with an answer. Slowly, he got up from his bed, not knowing exactly where he was going to go, or for that matter, what he was going to do when he got there. He crept out into the hallway and down the stairs, trying his hardest not to disturb anyone in the house. As he reached the fourth stair just before the next floor, he remembered there was no one else in his house; his parents went out at a party and were still not back. He remembered his parents telling him about this party. They said it was just going to be a get together of old friends and family. “Good for them, they haven’t spent much time with any of their friends lately.” He couldn’t finish his sentence; his mouth was dry to the point where it hurt to talk. So he continued his walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. He rested against the counter, where he had a perfect view of the clock. Its neon blue glow was the only real source of light in the room, as the curtains in the adjoining room were drawn and no lights were on. It was one-thirty in the morning, and that bothered Malikye. “They’re never out this late without calling at least.” Worry began to flood his mind with each second that passed. But ultimately he knew that they were just out having fun. He refilled his now empty glass and went back to bed.

It was two-eighteen when the phone finally rang. Malikye was sleeping. It had to ring about seven times before he actually woke up and got his bearings. Stumbling out of bed and tripping over the clothing he foolishly had left all over the floor, he made it to the phone and picked it up. He did not recognize the voice on the other line, but the solemn tone of the stranger did not sound like good news. “Malikye, it’s your Aunt Jenny.” The voice identified itself slowly, almost hesitantly. “Hun you better sit down. It’s your father.” Malikye was not sitting down. His knees became weak and a horrible turning sensation in his stomach began to make itself known. “He was driving both your mother and himself home when a car jumped the guardrail. They say it was because of the rain on the road; it was impossible to avoid.” She paused, listening for some kind of interjection from him, but all she heard was dead space. “Your mother has a couple of bruises, a broken arm, and possibly a bad case of whiplash. But your father…Malikye your father didn’t make it. I’m so sorry sweetie, there was nothing the doctors could do, his injuries were too severe. A few of us are already at the hospital, your mother told the emergency team to contact us, and you. Listen your uncle Cory is coming over to pick you up and drive you down here. He should be there soon.” She sniffled, trying to keep her tears down for the sake of the boy. But again she heard nothing.

“Thank you Jenny, I have to get dressed now. I’ll see you at the hospital.” Malikye spoke without emotion and hung up the phone. Whether it was the late hour at which the call had come, or the fact that Malikye did not want to hear it, the news of his father’s death did not sink in. Malikye got dressed, and slipped a candle and lighter into his pocket without shedding a tear. He went downstairs and got his coat on without even thinking about where he was about to go, and why. He sat down on the armrest of the sofa, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

The car ride was uneventful; Malikye had not say a word to his uncle yet, and the silence was fractured only by the low hum of the car engine. Cory kept his eyes on the road, only glancing occasionally at Malikye. “Should I say anything?” Cory wondered, “What would I say? And would he answer back?” It was another twenty-minutes before they would arrive at the hospital, and Cory could not live with the silence. Not when so much had to be said. “Talk to me Malikye. Tell me what’s on your mind. You can’t just sit there and say nothing at such a time as this.” Cory meant no disrespect by his words; he just needed some kind of reaction out of the child who sat beside him. But nothing came from that child. Not a word, movement, or even change in breathing patterns. He just sat there, making no attempt to connect to the outside world. He sat as if no one was beside him. This angered Cory, so much that he could not hold his tongue, “Damn it Malikye, I’m talking to you! Your father has just died and all you can do is sit there and say nothing? Just what the hell is wrong with you?” A cold chill filled Cory’s body as he realized just what he had said to the obviously hurting child. “Malikye, I am so sorry…I didn’t mean…I don’t know what I was think…” Cory stopped in his sentence as he saw Malikye’s head turn to face his own. Malikye swallowed as a single tear fell from his eye. He looked down slowly, then turned his head back to the right and looked out the window. The remaining fifteen minutes of the car ride were silent, just as before. Neither of them made a move until they arrived at the hospital.

The doors slid open for both Malikye and Cory, and despite their yearning to see the rest of the family, neither of them increased his pace. They walked to the elevator, stood and waited patiently for it to arrive. Malikye stepped onto the elevator first and stood at the back; he did not know which floor to go to, so he waited for Cory to push the button; the seventh floor. The parallel was not lost on him; he did not smile or chuckle, but simply took note of this occurrence. It took only a few seconds to reach their destination, and the rest of the family was waiting in the lobby in front of the elevator. Malikye recognized all of them. His Aunt Jenny was sitting on the couch with his cousins, who were joined by his uncle Cory after stepping off the elevator. Across from them were a few friends of the family that were most likely at the party. But of the faces he saw, none were his mother. Jenny came up to him and took his hand. Without a word said they walked down the left corridor to room seven thirty one. He nodded to his aunt and let go of her hand.

“She’s sleeping right now hun, but I’ve arranged it with the doctors so that you can stay with her as long as you want.” Jenny spoke with a quiet voice, “If you need anything, just give us a call, we’re not that far away,” her voice was filled with sympathy. There was so much more she wanted to say, so much she wanted to do for him, but now was not the time, he needed to grieve and she knew that. She left him there in that hallway, she left him to his own devices, and his own volition.

Malikye slowly raised his hand opened the door. The room was dark, except for the blinking and flashing lights of the various medical apparati. His mother was lying on the only bed in the room. She was asleep. He walked over to her and sat in the chair neatly positioned to her right. There were pillows already set up for sleeping in it, and a blanket rested beside it on a table. He pulled the chair in closer to his mother. He looked at her with innocent eyes. “She’s so frail. She’s not the same person when she’s like this.” He spoke none of this out loud; worried he might wake her with thoughts she did not need to hear. “What am I supposed to do now mom? Just tell me what I should do…” His words were interrupted with tears as the events of the night began to sink in. The tears were almost foreign to him; crying was something he did not like to do. Time no longer had meaning as he cried through the night. He had never felt so alone.

Chapter four

The sound of rain was absent today. There were no clashes of thunder, or for that matter, any loud noises that would have broken the silence that shrouded the small circle of people. They cried in silence. Their tears fell with no sound, at least that’s how it seemed in his head, or maybe he had just drowned the world out. They offered him gestures of sorrow and sympathy, which appeared to only aggravate Malikye. He felt so alone; he felt as if no one was really there, almost like it was some kind of terrible dream of prophecy.

The ceremony was slow, people from all over town came to pay their respects and it was almost too much for Malikye. The endless condolences from people he did not know, the blank compassion found in their eyes, and the sadness he felt in his heart, took their toll on him, he did not talk. Not even to his mother. He picked a point in the room and didn’t move his glance from it.

Memories played in his head the entire time, memories of disappointing looks, hurtful words, and secretive discussions between his parents. He was trying to find a point in his life when he was happy, but nothing was coming to mind. It did not bother him, it didn’t even disturb him the least bit. He was numb from shock, numb from years of emotional isolation, numb from keeping everything inside.

The ceremony lasted an hour but felt like five, and the reception was supposed to be twice as long. The car ride back was filled with tension and anger. Cory was driving and Malikye had not said a word to him since the incident in the car. No words were spoken the entire way home, none that Malikye could hear anyway.

His house was filled with family, friends, and well wishers, people he didn’t know. He wanted to be alone; he wanted to go to the tower or even to his room, but his mother wanted him to sit with her for a bit and be with the family. He didn’t want to argue, not now, so he chose to just do what she asked and sit with her for a while. People continued to stream in and out of the house and unfortunately his mother was the focal point of the room, which meant he was too. The apathy of the people encompassed him, drowning him in a thick sea of false promises and empty sympathies. None of these people knew him or what he was going through. It was a total sham, no one cared then and they never did. He wanted everyone to just leave him alone.

An hour and a half passed before he felt soaked with other people’s emotion and he couldn’t take it. He looked at his mother with tears in his eyes and headed for his room. Pushing his way through the pen of people to the stair at the opposite end of the room. But something stopped him; someone from the crowd had grabbed his arm. It was Andréa and she saw the tears in his eyes.

“You want to go somewhere private Malikye? Maybe go and talk?” Her voice was soft and comforting, Malikye could not resist. He led her up the stairs to his room and sat down on the bed. She didn’t actually know what to talk about; she’d never been in this situation before. She put her hand on his back and rubbed it gently, trying to get some kind of response from him.

“I don’t expect you to say anything Andréa, I don’t know if there is anything you can say. I hope you have no experience in this situation to draw from and I hope you never do.”

“Well no I haven’t been in your place or anything, but we could just sit and talk about how you feel or what’s going though your mind, anything you want to say I’ll listen.”

Malikye didn’t know what to say, or what he was feeling, or even what he was thinking. No one had ever really asked him to share his personal being with them. He stumbled on words, attempting to open up to her, but nothing was coming up, he didn’t know how to voice his emotions. He was lost in himself again only this time he couldn’t remember the way out. “Maybe this was a mistake, I don’t know how to talk about this stuff, I’m used to just being alone and dealing with it by myself.”

“But you don’t have to be alone Malikye, I’m here to talk to you and only you.” She felt as if her words were just bouncing back at her, she felt she couldn’t pierce his defenses, not now anyways.”

“I don’t know if I can talk to you Andréa, do you even know how I feel about you?” Andréa seemed apprehensive but had to know what he was talking about, he could see it in her eyes. “Andréa I’ve liked you for the past seven years of my life, and I’ve been to afraid to say or do anything about it.”

She wasn’t shocked, she had an idea that he liked her but was unsure of just how much. “I, uh, well I don’t really know what to say to that. I’m not sure that this is the time to really talk about this either.” She didn’t want to hurt him; heartbreak was the last thing he needed.

“I understand.” The tears had left his eyes and he spoke with no emotion. “Look I just really want to be alone right now.” He wanted more then anything to reach out to her, share what was going on inside his head, but he just couldn’t.

“Malikye, I really don’t want to leave. I came down here just to talk to you.”

“Alright, then you can stay here but I have to leave. I can’t take this place anymore. This town, this street, this house, everything is just a reminder that I have nothing left. I used to think that my feeling alone was just in my head, but the more time I spend here the more I realize just how much truth is actually in that feeling. There is no one here for me, or anywhere to go.” Malikye stood up and went downstairs, flying past other guests and family friends. He stopped only for a second in the front hall to take a picture off the hallway table.

His mother saw him and saw Andréa go after him, but he tore through the house and out the door, she couldn’t have caught him. He was gone.



Chapter five


The wooden frame was firmly clutched in his fingers. He did not cry; not anymore. The past weeks had been somewhat of a blur, filled with memories and a sorrow that followed Malikye like a shadow.

“Look at us, we were never truly happy in any of the damn pictures. We never smiled; I never smiled.” Malikye fought to keep the visions from coming back, a battle that was becoming futile with every passing day. Everything around him brought some kind of memory back to his view - whether it was running to his retreat because of a fight or other problem he had with his family, or simply coming here because he wanted to be alone. He chuckled to himself when he thought of all the times he hid here just to be alone, never realizing just how much he would desire to be able to say hello to his father, and even his mother. He put the picture back down onto his desk and walked over to his bed.

It was already 5:47 A.M and the sun would soon be creeping over the horizon. Malikye stood up and crossed the room to the door. The sound of his shoes bounced off the opposing walls. “I always wanted this…isolation.” He repeated that statement over and over again as he climbed down the stairs. He no longer listened for the welcoming sounds that they produced. The simple joys he anticipated in previous days no longer appealed to him. It was almost as if he was losing interest in his old friend. He shook the thought off and continued down to the seventh floor.

Streams of light were already beginning to pour through the window. And for some reason, this brought a smile to his lips. He walked over to the window and began to peer outside while he leaned against the wall. The intricate pattern carved into the sill still fascinated him. He began to trace it with his fingers; the delicate curves, the perfect swirls, and even the border that lined the edges.

Malikye quickly withdrew his finger in pain; a sliver of wood had slid into his skin. He was utterly stunned; this was the first time, ever, that the tower had hurt him. With all the hazards that surrounded him, the most beautiful part of the tower hurt him. He plucked the sliver from his finger and began to investigate this unheard of event. “The edges almost seem to be rotting off,” he spoke in amazement. He continued to prod the wood gently, to make sure he did not destroy any more of the design. With the windowsill falling to pieces, he decided not to take any chances and walked back to the stairs.

The sun was slightly visible from the third floor. The missing outer wall, to the left of the stairs, provided an almost perfect view of the surrounding forest. Malikye had placed a chair just off center of the hole, so he could sit, think, watch, and enjoy the many cites of the undisturbed world. Birds would often fly by and perch on parts of the wall or even the chair, but never penetrated any farther into the tower. But today there was nothing; not a bird, a squirrel, or an insect to be seen or heard. Malikye thought nothing of this. In fact, he thought about nothing at all; instead he just sat and watched the sunrise. Minutes droned by as the Suns piercing rays crept into the room. Slow and slower still, the Sun was filling the room, but Malikye just sat there, trying to shut down his mind.


[edit on 2-11-2007 by InSpiteOf]

Memories started to flood back to him once again. He remembered waking up and creeping down the stairs to hear his parents talking about what should be done with him. His parents had even considered trying to get him on medication at one point, but neither of his parents really liked that idea. And that’s when it hit him. The photograph he had taken with him before he left home was still in his pocket. He pulled it out and began to analyze it again. “This is the only picture I can think of that we are happy in. In over 17 years worth of pictures, there is only one of us all smiling. And we called ourselves a family…” A spurt of rage had taken hold of him. He was mad at his supposed family; he was mad at his father for never being around, he was mad at his mother for never taking an interest in anything he liked. But most of all, he was mad at himself, for not being the child they wanted. “Unwanted, that’s exactly what I am. I don’t belong with them, hell I don’t belong anywhere.” Malikye stood up. He was angry now and he started to pace. “I can’t believe you weren’t around for so many years, and now you’ll never be around again. How could you do this to me? I tried to be everything you wanted me to be, but no matter what I did, you still didn’t want to be around me. So you found your way out… Well fine, # you and # your perfect family!” Malikye was screaming now. “You want that perfect family so much? Fine you can have it.” And with that said, he lifted the picture into the air with both hands grasping either side, and started to tear it apart. First in half, the fours, and then finally into little pieces and he threw them out the hole in the wall.

Malikye was shaking now. He slouched against a wall and slid down it until he was sitting. Tears were now streaming down his face and his breathing was erratic. “I will never be the perfect son for you dad,” he said quietly. He was losing his war Malikye was breaking down.


Chapter Six

The streets were busy for once. Hordes of cars filled the narrow streets as people took to the sidewalks in a uniform fashion. A general sense of purpose flowed through each and everyone of them as the mangled words each person spoke echoed off the stone and iron angels that stood tall and proud around them, a trophy to the towns evolution.

The air was thick with thought and reason as speculation of the purpose of this town meeting encompassed the crowd. Each person had their own perspectives on the out-comes of the future events about to unfold, but the majority of the minds were unison in thought. The towers life was in jeopardy.

People piled into the town hall, filling every available seat, leaving many to stand pressed against each other. Their outside voices echoed off the walls and the continuing banter remained at a steady pace until the overhead speakers boomed with a call to order.

A single voice had broken through the wake of incoherent babble that swelled and filled the room. It spoke hesitantly as if the person was afraid to break the long and angry chain of thought. “People, if you could quiet down we could get started.” The ambient noise level dropped to a lull but did not stop completely. “Well I guess that’ll just have to do. I know many of you have already figured out why we are here, so I won’t waste time with the usual opening necessities. Recently we have been offered a new business contract. This is very good news for our growing town, as it will generate many new assets and jobs for us. But there is a catch, the business wants to appear cutting edge and it simply cannot operate that way unless we remove the old from our lives. We have all been afraid to lose a facet of our everyday lives that no longer holds any value. Its old, it’s decaying, and its dangerous.” Everyone in the meeting new what he was talking about. “It’s time we did the responsible thing and let go of the past. Its time we removed that dark blight that dwells on our outskirts. The tower must go.” The man stepped back from the mic, unafraid to show the pride he felt from his words, and the people, now his people, agreed with them.


The chaos that had held the town’s people hostage mere minutes ago, had morphed into a controlled paradigm. Everyone agreed with the events that had just taken place. None of them spoke out against the mod mentality that was seeping into the minds of their neighbors and friends instead they joined the crown. Their silence was a proverbial torch that would eventually burn the tower to cinders. Word was already spreading to all houses and building, adults and children, friends and family alike. And by the time it reached Malikye, it was already cemented in the minds of most of the town.

“This isn’t fair, the towers been here longer than anyone else. Why can’t we just fix it up a bit? We don’t have to destroy it, there are other options.” Malikye was upset, but spoke with control. “The tower is a piece of art, its just rough around the edges.”

“Malikye I hear what you’re saying, but who would pay for the renovations? Your talking about a full building makeover, and the town just cant afford it.” The mayor, Jason Donnaly, was obviously impervious to suggestion.

“Well what if we hold some kind of drive, or charity run, or anything that would help to pay some of the costs. Maybe some of the town’s people will be willing to help in some way.” Malikye shot out idea’s as fast as he could think of them, but they seemed to just reflect off of Donnaly’s bureaucratic smile.

“Look I respect your passion but the people have already spoken out against the tower in a virtually unanimous consensus. The people will not let it stand anymore.” Donnaly’s tone lowered, “There is nothing you can do in this situation, just give it up.” Donnaly slouched back into his chair and crossed his fingers together. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you that but its just the way it is, now, if you don’t have anything else?”

Malikye was frozen once more. He had nothing to say, nothing that would make any difference anyway. “No, there’s nothing else, sorry for wasting your time.” And with that Malikye stood up and walked out slowly. He walked home instead of bussing it, he felt that the walk might clear his head, get him straight and help him think up a plan. But the entire walk home he kept playing the conversation over again in his head. Each time he came up with the same answer, it just wasn’t fair, but there really was nothing he could do about it. He had lost once more.

Chapter Seven


It was five hours before dawn, the shadows seemed to fill the room almost reluctantly as the moon faded behind a group of clouds that rested against the pallet of the nigh sky. His room was silent, he couldn’t even hear himself breath as he stared at the glow of the digital clock. He had been looking at the clock for hours now, the numbers just blurred together; he didn’t even care what time it was.

It would only be another nine hours before the wrecking crew would begin to tear the tower down. He wanted to revisit all his old memories but nine hours was not enough time. “I don’t know what to do. My shelter is being ripped to pieces, I feel like a guest in my own house, and I have no one to talk to. No one that understands anyway.” Malikye couldn’t fight it anymore, whatever little hope he was holding onto the past year had dissipated, his mind had become his heaven and it was becoming desolate with empty thoughts.

Malikye stood up and began to pace his room and ponder his next move. “I can’t think in this place, what the hell am I going to do? I’ve got to leave; I’ve got to go to the tower, maybe there’s something I haven’t thought of.” He made his way out of his room and down the stairs. The kitchen light was on and his mother was inside at the table. “I don’t want to have to deal with her,” he thought as he crept past her.
“Malikye? Where are you going at 1:00 am?” His mother had leaned slightly off her chair to see her son.

“This is my last chance to feel like I belong anywhere, I have a little less than nine hours to be myself without worry. Don’t take this away from me, please.” His plea was quiet but desperate.

“What do you mean? You can be yourself here, who’s going to judge you here?” She was trying as hard as she could to make a connection with him, make him feel welcome.

“You are” his words we spoken softly almost un-auditable to his mothers.

“Malikye just because I don’t really understand you doesn’t mean you’re not welcome here, this is your house to.” She tried as hard as she could to comfort him but his eyes were clear.

“I don’t know if I will ever feel like this is my house mother. And I don’t think you will ever understand me, maybe its just better that way.” His words were cold and to the point, something that was rare for Malikye. “I’ve got to go mom, I need to think and be alone.”

She didn’t know what to say to him, she never really did. “Ok Hun, do what you need to do, just remember you can come back here whenever you want too.” She smiled a comforting smile, but it was lost on Malikye who was already on his way out the door.

“Its not her fault that she cant relate, its mine. I’m the problem with my life, not anyone else.” He didn’t want to admit it to himself but there was no denying it anymore, he was alone by choice, not by fate.

The walk to the tower was long this time. He walked slower then he ever had as thoughts of his future life moved through his head. Where was he going to go after the tower was gone? His house was as unwelcoming to him as school was, he didn’t have many friends so he couldn’t stay with them, and he had no money to get his own place. His walk was occupied these useless thoughts of self-regret, he was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice he was at the edge of the forest already.

“So this will be the last time I enter this forest, I always thought it would be when I moved away, but where was going to go then?” Like many of his thoughts Malikye figured it didn’t matter. He took a slow deep breath and stepped over the line. He found his path and went straight to the tower, he had eight hours to spend here, somehow he’d have to make them last.

He placed his hands on the door and pushed. The door hit the floor with a crash that echoed off the barren walls and floors right back at him. Malikye was shocked, he didn’t know what had just happened, or how. For the years he was coming here, the door always seemed to sturdy, he had trouble moving it himself half the time. But it was no time to worry about the door, he had a mere eight hours here, so he made his way to the seventh floor.

His windowsill was shrouded in darkness along with the rest of the room. His fingertips remembered the intricate pattern, as well as the pain his last visit was coupled with. “Not even the simple beauty of this room can make me feel happy anymore.” Whatever energy filled this room during his previous visits had left. The heart of the tower was cold and isolated and the emotion he invested in it was seeping through the holes in the walls like a vapor. “All I see is sadness here, nothing more.”

He turned to the stairs and made his way to the top floor with haste. His hands were shaking by the time he made it; it was cold at the top for once. Malikye could almost see his breath. “What the hell? Why is it so #ing cold here? Its still summer.” Nothing seemed to make sense in the tower anymore, there were no more simple joys left to experience. Malikye climbed into his bed to keep warm. “I have seven and a half hours and all I can think about is sleep.” Malikye wanted desperately for this to be a dream; maybe if he slept here he would wake up somewhere else. He turned and laid on his right side so he could face the inside of the clock face. His gaze didn’t move from the frozen hands of the clock “This is it Malikye, there’s nothing left for you to do.” The thought put him to sleep.

Voices could be herd throughout the tower, strange voices of other men. Someone had invaded Malikye’s tower and woken him up. It was the demolition crew and they were doing their once over check of the place, to find the perfect places to put the charges. They moved like cancer cells through the tower, drilling four holes in every room and placing a long stick of explosive in each.

Malikye got up and ran down the stairs to the seventh floor once again, just in time to see the crew boar their first hole. “Stop this please, this tower is part of my life and yours, and everyone else’s in this town. To tear it down would be to lose part of ourselves. You don’t have to do this.”

The workers were a little shocked to see that someone was even in the decaying building let alone standing up for it. “Look kid we have a contract saying that this place is coming down today, now if we don’t do our job we’re in violation of that contract. We could lose our jobs.”

“Not if you stand up to the mayor, say you want the tower to be protected or something, please you have to do something.” Malikye was trying everything he could; he couldn’t just sit there and let them do this.

“We are doing something kid, we’re taking this place down whether you can deal with it or not. We have a job to do, and you can’t be here while we’re doing it.” Ralph escort him out of here and make sure he doesn’t come back in.”
Malikye slinked down the stairs with the worker trailing behind him. “How long will this take?” Malikye hated to ask the question but he had to know.

“The charged will take another 10 or 15 minutes to set up, and the demolition will take about another 10 minutes.” Ralph spoke with an empty tone. “You’ll have to stay about 100 feet away from now on.”

Malikye stepped out and saw that they had bordered the tower off with yellow caution tape. “100 feet away?” Malikye looked back at the worker.

“Yep, that’s the line. Do yourself a favor and don’t cross it. It’ll just cause us both trouble.” Ralph stood at the door for insurance.

Malikye took a seat on the ground and stared at the tower. He saw his memories of the tower as vivid as if he was there again. The first time he walked into the tower, his discovery of the windowsill, his first night there. It was too much for him and tears fell from his eyes once more. “I’ve shed too many tears at this place.” Malikye thought. His memories had taken over the grim reality of the situation for a while. He floated back to better days and happier nights, until the chatter of a walkie-talkie snapped him out of it. The charged were set and the crew was coming down.

One by one they filed out the door to the yellow line where their devices were stationed, they started the countdown from 15 seconds. Malikye was shaking as he stood up. Nervous and scared, he closed his eyes, as the countdown got closer to zero. “Goodbye my old friend, you’ve been the only one I can trust. I’ll miss you.”

A deafening silence filled the surrounding area as a low rumbling shook the ground Malikye stood on. Dust filled the air and swept forward towards the group of people, obstructing the view of the lower sections of the tower, but the top was still visible. Malikye opened his eyes in time to see it collapsing in on itself and the clock face shattering. It was over in an instant, his life was over just as fast.

He turned away in pain, unable to bear the site. No tears fell from his eyes this time, they were stuck in his throat and he was in shock. He felt that similar numb sensation take over his body, like it did at his father’s funeral.

The dust had settled and the crew was now weeding there way through the debris, pilling bricks and wood for easy removal. Malikye couldn’t take it anymore and he left, he ran home and to his room. “There’s no way out of this, I have no safety anymore.”

His mother came in the room about an hour later, to find him sitting in the corner of his room crying. She didn’t know what to say, but she had to do something. This was her child. She moved close to him and froze in her tracks, she saw something that scared and puzzled her. His suitcase was packed.

The thought came to him in a fit of depression. He gave her no reason, no answer, no response to her questions. He hugged her tightly and spoke the words softly “I’m sorry” in her ear. She looked at him in sheer panic as he picked up his suitcase and walked out of the room and down the stairs. He grabbed his coat on the way out and headed for the bus station. He didn’t know where he was going or how he was going to get there. All he knew was there was nothing for him here, not anymore.

You know what, I'm pretty sure you deserve a load of stars for putting this up. I will read it as soon as I can sneak enough printer time at work - reading off the screen is only really valid to me for shorter pieces - and I'll try to comment then.

The usual questions:

Are you a serious writer?

Have you sought publication?

Are you already liberally published?

Do you care what my opinion is?

Are you a member of any of the dozens (hundreds?) of creative sites where you might get proper crits from people with cred?

Is all that beneath you by now?

Do I with timorous touch approach the Gods?

Are you, in short, actually Iain M Banks?

Originally posted by hidatsa
You know what, I'm pretty sure you deserve a load of stars for putting this up. I will read it as soon as I can sneak enough printer time at work - reading off the screen is only really valid to me for shorter pieces - and I'll try to comment then.

I think the main reason no one has replied is the length. It was a risk to throw it all up there but whats the point in baiting the reader? All or nothing is what I say.

Are you a serious writer?
Have you sought publication?
Are you already liberally published?
Do you care what my opinion is?
Are you a member of any of the dozens (hundreds?) of creative sites where you might get proper crits from people with cred?
Is all that beneath you by now?
Do I with timorous touch approach the Gods?
Are you, in short, actually Iain M Banks?

I once thought I would become a serious writter, but life got in the way of that dream. I've sinced moved on.

No, never sought publication. As much as I like this piece, it still reflect a slightly less mature time in my life. I cant shake that feeling everytime I read it. To me, its good, but not publication good.

As above so below; no I am not published.

Yes, I care what your opinion is. Not because you are the first to reply, but because I posted this piece because I wanted other opinions.

No not a member of any literary site

Not so much beneath me, Ive just lost my muse for now.

Heh, no im pretty down to earth.

No unfortunatley im not Mr. Banks. If I were, Id be a hell of a lot richer than I am right now.

Edit to add: Silly me, I forgot to say thank you for taking the time to reply and eventually read this thing!

[edit on 7-3-2008 by InSpiteOf]

Hi, InSpiteOf, I forgot to mention I was a sloooooow reader.

I actually finished reading it last weekend while I was away working and I liked the mood and atmosphere very much. I can see why you can't find the way in to pick it up again, though, it's the equivalent of painting yourself into a corner. You've examined everything you've set up in the opening chapters and left nothing more to work on.

If this were for publication and if you were to work more on it, I would suggest having the tower as a character (which you have) whose fate is still undetermined at the point where you finish. I would, if I were writing it myself, imbue the tower with a character (as you almost have) that would allow it to decide its own fate in the end (which you seemed to start to do but somehow shied away from).

I'm sorry to say, the girl seemed entirely incidental to anything. I was expecting an inverse parallel where, as he grew closer to her, he grew more estranged from the tower and in the end, this is why the tower was going to take itself out of the picture, so he could go off with his love and have a "normal" life. I saw it all as allegory for discovering what was important in life, or in modern parlance, coming of age.

In more minute detail (but not much) you seem to have spent a great deal of time and effort on the opening chapter and left the rest to fend for itself. From about Chapter 3, I think, the typos and grammatical lapses start to creep in. You probably raced through the last few chapters, as you felt nearer your goal and you knew how to get there. It's a very common and understandable part of the process. Everyone does it. Those who don't have discovered the secret of disciplining their writing day and doing all sorts of dull things like writing plot outlines and character paths and all that rubbish.

Overall, the atmosphere was good and it sustained, the plot flowed dramatically although it didn't leave enough of a trail of things for the reader to wonder about (no page-turner, this, I'm afraid) and only your adult characters seemed weakly drawn.

Once more, I realise this isn't for publication and really all you want to know is whether, as a reader, I liked reading it, and I did. I liked a lot of it very much indeed. All the rest I've said is merely my opinion as someone who would, under other circumstances, be discussion POV and plot-seeding - but that isn't what we're here for, is it?

Finally, please understand this is all just my opinion. While some of it would, I believe, be shared by other readers, there is nothing that is intended to detract from the fact that, as it stands, it's still a damned good little read.

You're very welcome.


My work here is done ....