Le Pic de Verre is the tallest of the cities. It towers over Elysium and Crome Trep and makes up a good majority of the skyline. I ponder this as I look for where I should stay. It’s an apartment complex made of glass and a pale oak finish that combines it. It’s a 50-story apartment complex that looks inviting compared to the other buildings in Elysium. I distract myself with these bits and bobs of trivia to keep me aware of what I’m getting into. It’s become a habit to pick out points of interest when I see fit constantly. That dark pit still looms from within; it's better to ignore it.

The building is nothing short of massive and sprawling despite its simplicity. It has a homey feel to it. As I enter, a woman greets me with a warm and welcoming smile and blonde hair tied into a bun. My mind becomes empty as she gives me a small tour of the lobby and the complex. Her voice is a soft memory that fizzles like a burnt roll of film. I didn’t find her name, but I hope she doesn’t remember mine. I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of doubt and worry as I desperately try to swim up and await the conversation I’m having with her. Words spill out like a combusted vending machine, spilling out with a response from someone else. She smiles and goes on and on, but I can’t wait to run. I can’t wait to drown.

I was led to my room; it was simple yet elegant. It had a small kitchen, a living room, and a bedroom. The windowcovered a single wall as it overlooked The Apple Plaza. The walls were painted a light beige and the floors were made of polished wood. The furniture was sleek and modern.

The woman showed me the basics of how to use the appliances, how to use the thermostat, how to contact maintenance, etc. She was a very sweet and helpful woman, although her words could not be heard by me. One soft click of the door closing and I began to spiral slowly. Time became indistinguishable, walls became unfamiliar oil paintings, noises grew louder and harsh. The sinking feeling was in full swing and I began to panic. I huddled into a small corner of the apartment and sobbed quietly. It wasn't long before my emotions were drained, and I felt numb. I laid down on the cold, hard floor and stared at the ceiling.

…

…

“i’m scared…” 

“I’m so…fucking..scared…”

They were my words for a lifeline