Yeshua Horowitz and Joshua Ray
URTU-07 TRAM, SOMEWHERE IN NORTH AMERICA
Yeshua hovered his head to look at his mess. A small, disposable glass drink had been smashed on the floor, leaving a dozen sharp fragments catering the floor. His stare of apathy quickly switched as he hesitantly accepted the call of duty - quietly ignoring the warm feeling growing in his lower regions. The luck was that he had nothing to worry about from the glass. Trying not to bang his head on the foggy wood above him, his legs swivelled to dangle off the side, daring to enter the dangerous water below. Hoping not to disturb anyone in the bunk below him, he dropped down like a teardrop, oddly quiet. He took off his coat, feeling the foul air roll over his rather exposed back. He quickly drifted onto the floor, landing in perfect form. The ground purred against his feet. Taking his coat, he picked up the glass shard and haphazardly threw it in the spacious pocket located on the coat. The boy craned up, searching behind him and in front for the sign of hope; the sign of a bin. No one would want to be caught in the mess he was in. Yeshua put his coat back on to try and hide his stain and to take the smashed glass away.
Absent mindedly he shoved his hand back into his pocket; out of habit, out of a lost mind. A sharp yelp escaped his lips. It faded almost immediately as Yeshua examined his brilliant work. The finger barely bled.
Walking down the hall, Joshua came into the bunks and saw another man, not unlike a younger himself, trying to get to a bin and walking a bit funny. Joshua was retreating away from the higher concentration of people, and to him, amusingly found someone who must've been attempting the same.
He spoke up, somewhat quietly but still audible. "Too many people for you too, huh?--", he paused a bit, "Some of those guys are creeps. Us loners gotta stick together, don't we? Pffft."
Yeshua continued to dart his head, it swaying in the wind. Turning to look for the nearest bin, he remained ever vigilant. His feet patted the soggy carpet, and he noticed a foggy figure in his peripheral vision. The sound was registered but not admired, so he continued to search for a bin, knowing the toilet would have probably been occupied. There, he searched through each aisle, moving further and further away from the man that was talking to somebody. His finger continued to bleed in his pocket. Maybe he'd just move away and not use one of his five senses, particularly smell. Acting normal was becoming paranormal.
The other man began to move a bit quicker, obviously finding this situation nearly surreal. "Uhh.. what the hell am I smelling..? Are you okay, young guy?", he sniffed the air, "Is that blood, or piss?", the man then smelled his surroundings once more to confirm, "Is it both? Hey, hey! Do you need medical attention? The hell happened?", the now somewhat panicked man 'slowly' jogged over to Yeshua and looked him over closely from behind and a bit to the side.
Attention.
So he was talking to me, Yeshua admired through smeared vision. Removing his left, unwounded hand onto the back of his alien head felt awfully strange all of a sudden, and it became like a paraplegic puppet was forgetting his actions. What he said was more overshadowed by his towering prescence, and the heat that teleported to him was infuriating and unwelcoming. He stepped back. Lips spluttered in search of a better language.
"Sorry sir . . . but do you know where the nearest bin is? I need to dispose of something."
"Uhh, yeah, we're nearly at it already.", the taller one of the two said, before asking, "...Seriously though, what happened? I'm pretty sure these combined scents of urine and blood are coming from you?". He began to theorize.
"Did you have a really awkward slip while waking up from a nap or what? Need to know where the shower is?"
Yeshua felt offended. This man was making such blatantly demeaning statements with an air of familiarity. And the worst part . . . he made a joke. A joke. The very notion of him commiting a prepubescent act of careless bladder control was an attack on his character. A stupid notion, indeed. The entire tram creeped and stunk of it. Help was not to be called by this particular individual, far from it. His eyebrows furrowed into a more aggressive v shape than most tactical flying formations.
"Have you not ever been on a tram such as this before? These smells are abundant. Now, given your complete lack of understanding of the climate of this area, I will wish you the need to not worry. I'll search for a bin myself."
And yet he stayed frozen, under a gripping shadow.
The other man seemed to slow down, sensing that he said something he perhaps shouldn't have judging by how the man responded, not to mention the reaction on his face. "Oh-oh, Okay... Yeah, alright. It's just after that turn, you'll see it. I'll... be going now.--", He completely stopped and began slowly walking backwards, mildly embarassed, "Uhh, have a good one? I'll be at my bunk."
Yeshua nodded and backed off like he had commited a drug deal with the most disgusting of substances. Forgetting how to walk, he sprayed his legs and scuttled down the hallway. At the turn off, when the window stopped and light had been replaced by a fake, stuffy mimic that flicked every few seconds, the boy turned around, his ebony hair draping half of his vision, to see the gatecrasher he exchanged with bore the marks of an NC pilot. Similar to him, in fact, even though his were not visible under his long hair and gripping coat.
Standing frozen for far too long, he managed the landscape until it became etched into his memory. Forever, this moment of tomfoolery, would be remembered. And immediately thrown overboard, in an effort to save a sinking ship.
He shot behind a wall, feeling wet and sticky. Thumping his forehead with the back of his palm, the handicapped ape grabbed his hair and crushed his eyes.
"What a prime example you are, eh? I stink. Pack a new pair of trousers next time, you fool. You need help. "
A reverbal, primitive groan grew from his pink appendage.
"Help."
The world's heat fell away behind the silent sea of nothing.
Feeling returned to his limbs again.