Beta forced himself to open his eyes. Ten whole days had passed since he last woke with a smile on his face. The days are a struggle now and the nights are worse. He knows that today will be his last day on this cursed Earth. Hopping into the shower he feels the warm water through his dirty hair, the hint of tears in the corners of his eyes combining with the water and washing away, spiralling down the drain. Today is the day.
Beta lives alone now. Since she went. On the 44th floor of a run down block of flats in Sector 21.13 Old England. He is a third generation junk salvager and sorter, his father and grandfather both happily accepting their terrible lot in life, but Beta had always wanted more. He never got more. The only thing he got in his life that he was really proud of was her, Luna. Her piercing eyes and glowing blonde hair lit him up, made him happy, gave him purpose. It has 10 days since she told him that it was moving too fast and she wanted to cool it off. Beta is crestfallen now. A broken man.
Towelling his hair from the shower, he steps out onto the balcony and pulls a cigarette from the packet, everything is Marlboro now since they bought out all the other brands. He gazes across the barren landscape below, empty shells of former betting shops, grafitti strewn walls, crumbled roads and husks of burnt out cars. He lights a match, holds it to the cigarette then flicks the match over the balcony, he watches it fall 44 floors to the concrete car park below. He is jealous of that match, he wishes he had the bravery to throw himself off and follow the match down to the floor. But that’s not how this is going to go. He has a better plan. Exhaling the last of the wispy blue smoke the cigarette goes off the balcony too. The lucky bastard. Shirt on, jeans on, shoes on. The door slams behind.
The elevator is old and makes some horrible noises, no one really comes out to service anything around the 21.13 sector anymore. It has largely been forgotten by the corrupt government, who are only interested in their enclave of former rich people and corporate vultures in sector 77. Seventy Seven is the only place left where everything has been preserved. A safe haven for rich scumbags. Beta has never even been there. He only knows what he’s been told by his father. Pushing his way past swarms of street beggers while mumbling false apologies he finally gets to where he needs to be. Two flights of stairs down to an old Tube station, now lovingly renovated and turned into a sort of bar by an old Guy called rusty who’s grandad used to own the World’s End in Camden, before the fall. Rusty sees Beta take a seat at the end of the bar. “Cheer up B, you look like shit, and wheres that beautiful girl of yours, I only tolerate you in here because she comes with you” Rusty chuckles. “Lets not talk about this now Rus, now or ever, just get me something strong, double”. A thick brown liquid is decanted into an old Coca Cola glass from before the fall. Rusty slides it along the bar. Beta immediately throws it back and down in one, he shudders and slides the glass back. “Fill ‘em up again”.
The stairs were easier on the way in, Beta stumbles up the two flights of stairs back into the blinding sunlight. He knows where he has to go now. Despite his drunken state he has to stay true to his goal. Last day on earth. A short walk from Rusty’s Bar is the Ratlands, a former junkyard full of makeshift shelters, canvas tents and general run down hovels. This is where he has to find Scar, the local scumbag dealer who can get his hands on anything. Turning a corner he sees Scar standing there with one of the local junkies, who is begging him for more time to pay while Scar has his hand around his throat. Seeing Beta he lets go of the poor bastard and throws him to the ground “Three more days, or you’re dead. Now fuck off”. He turns to Beta and smiles, his teeth are cracked and yellow, “Bloody hell, theres a face I haven’t seen in a while! You and that angel of yours back on the weed? I can sort..” Beta cuts him off with a loud “NO” before lowering his voice to ask for the stuff. “I need Acria”. The smile disappears from Scar’s face. “You know that stuff will..” Beta interrupts again “kill you with one breath? I know”.
A short while later Scar returns, a vial in his left hand triple wrapped with cloth in case of leaking. He signals for Beta to follow him into a corner before he passes it to him, Acria is still the most illegal substance in the land and the hunters will shoot you dead on sight for posession. Beta stuffs a handful of coins into Scar’s top pocket, he overpays, but he won’t need money where he’s going. “It’s been nice knowing you and I hope you find peace” Scar says as B turns to walk away.
The walk back to the flats is long and purposeful. Memories of his childhood flood over him, making him smile, then memories of her, back when she used to return his calls, back when he knew where she was. Tears sting his eyes and his lip trembles as he walks through the old dilapidated lobby of his flats. He hits the elavator button but decides to take the stairs. Every floor of the 44 he climbs brings back a memory of her. The holiday they took together to Sector 42.10 Old Spain when they were first together, the nights they stayed up all night drinking and smoking, the days she said she’d love him forever and never leave. All these memories wash over him, he gets to his floor walks the long dark corridor, gets to his door. Fuck. No Key.
After locking himself out of his flat, Beta slumps below a window in the corridor, right at the end. Staring down the dark hallway he begins to tremble, the hint of tears have given way to tidal waves, every regret running down his face, soaking into his rough beard. He knows it’s time. No more stalling. Reaching into his top pocket, he unravels the cloth around the vial. He looks out the window one last time, looks at the sun breaking through the clouds. He wishes for her one last time, and undoes the lid of the vial. His hands shaking he lifts it to his nose, with one last pitiful sob he breathes in, his eyes roll back, he slumps down.
As the life slides away from his broken body he can see a glow at the end of the hallway, a pure white , it moves towards him slowly down the corridor, his eyes struggle to adjust, suddenly he realises. It’s her. Her flowing blonde hair and piercing brown eyes, it’s got to be her! As she comes closer he can see a beautiful flower in her hand and that green crystal necklace she used to wear. He struggles to stand but every bit of energy is gone, his life is slipping away. She is right in front of him now, her smile wide and her eyes locked on his, he tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Her beauty. Her beauty. Her beauty. And then nothing.
His ears rung, an acrid smell, a dry mouth, his eyes cracked open. Beta lay sprawled in the corridor, coated in sweat, his brain pounding. He looked down, as he felt something in his hand. He slowly lifted his hands, in his left hand was the flower, and in his right hand was her green necklace, with a piece of paper with an address and phone number. At his lowest point, she had come back for him. The sun burst through the window as Beta struggled to stand. It was a new day.
