The three old people were arranged in a row. On the left was an old woman, noticeably more wrinkled than the other two. She was bald and wore a pin-striped suit. In the middle sat a man, his hair was unusually thick for his age and he wore a grey suit with a maroon tie; unlike the woman sitting next to him, he was wearing a shirt. He also had a wheezy breathing pattern that could be heard all the way from Jack’s positioning at the back of the room. The last man was the only one sitting in a manual wheel-chair. He was dressed a lot more casually than the formers, and was a lot paler but had strikingly green eyes. They all sat on the stage staring up at him in the back of the room.
Jack found something quite uncomfortable about old-age. And these adversaries were certainly not the most inviting people to stumble across, with their skeletal figures and curious silences; they added a disturbing, forbidding air to such a perfect seclusion.
Jack decided that it would be well if he went down the stairs to introduce himself to the three aged people, however frightened he may be of them. Unfortunately his caution of them was soon vindicated, because before he could even get down the second step, the old lady in the suit started laughing in a most peculiar manner.
“So what are you gonna show fo’ us today, honey?” she said loudly in a rather surprising croaky, Brooklyn accent.
Jack turned away, so that his eyes couldn’t fall on the lady in the wheelchair, or the other two.
“I’m sorry, I just came across this place, there was a train… it forced me to fall off the tracks”
“Ya we heard it.” she replied.
The old man in the grey suit wheeled forward up-stage, and opened his mouth and let a long wheezy breath out. It was Jack’s belief that he must have been a heavy smoker in his life.
“The audition Jack, you’re here for the audition, ain’t ya.” he said, gasping for breath after he spoke his words.
Jack was startled when he learned that the old man new his name and felt rather offended at their course and crude mannerisms. However, before Jack could even utter his defence he heard the oddest noise, which finally compelled him to turn up his head out of curiosity. He soon came to realise the casually dressed man, who sat in a manual wheelchair to the right of the other two, was to blame for the distressing hubbub. He had a disturbed expression on his face, his mouth hung open and his eyes were widened, he looked as though he had just seen a ghost.
Jack then saw the man in the maroon tie, and in an electric wheelchair, move over toward the agonising old man with what looked like to be a small cup of coffee in his hands. The cup, now in the casually dressed old man’s hands, gave calming peace to his limbs and face. He proceeded to pour the steaming content of the cup onto a small paper napkin that lay in his lap. Once this task was complete the old woman, who was also in an automatic wheelchair, moved over to him. She picked up the now stained and wet napkin, rolled it into a ball type shape and pushed it into his open mouth.
Now feeling very insecure Jack headed for the exit. He ran to the west side of the auditorium, and began searching frantically for the exit.
“We’re not gonna open it, unless you audition for our play, Jack.” whispered the bald old woman.
“Who are you three? What do you want from me?! Where the hell am I!” he screamed.
The wheezy old man sighed,
“Listen to your self, you already know the answer.”
With that all three of them started giggling,
“Having fun sleeping Jack?” yelled the old lady, starting to laughing even more now.
“You killed your mother Jack, murderer.” said the old man in the maroon tie, whilst laughing breathlessly. Their laughs started getting louder and louder, even the old man on the right, who previously had been groaning, allowed a few chuckles out.
Jack started becoming more and more breathless, he fell on the floor grasping his left arm trying to scream but no sound came out of his mouth. He leant against the red wall, trying to lift himself back up, but his distress became too great. Finally his eyes shut.
Jack’s mother died giving birth to him.
He was born on May 3rd 1999, years before the end. Although he can’t remember it now, Jack was bullied at school.
On the day that the nuclear spear heads rained from the sky, Jack had been beaten so badly at school that he fell into a coma and was rushed to hospital. Jack was put into room 35 B, which was in the centre of the ground floor of Mayday Hospital. When he had awoken from his coma, the hospital was no longer standing. The rubble was piled up all around his bed, he was the only one in the hospital to have survived the bombings, and in fact he was one of the only people in the city to have survived.
Jack now awoke again, he found himself on the centre of the stage, with a young girl. He looked towards the audience and the three old people were there, in the seats, minus wheel chairs.
“Hey Jack, how was your life?” said the old man in the maroon tie.
“Don’t worry, Jack. At least in heaven everything is fine.” Said the groaning old man
“Can I go now?” asked Jack reclusively.
“Sure, step into the spot light Jack, thanks for auditioning we will get back to you shortly” grinned the old bald lady. After she said that a large spot light was turned on that lit up the whole stage, Jack cautiously took a few steps forward until he felt the warm light upon his head. He looked up, straight at it.
After hearing many farewells from all three of the old people, Jack found himself sitting in a contemporary room, designed tastefully, albeit rather minimalist. He was not the only one in the room; there were three other people, all sitting in black leather chairs. One was an old lady, who was wearing a pin-stripped suit, and it seemed as though she must have had chemotherapy for she wore a hat and it was noticeable that no hair lay underneath it. Sitting next to her was a man in a grey suit, he was bald and smoking a pipe. Next to him was a young man, dressed casually drinking a cup of coffee.
The most noticeable thing about the room he was in was the fact it had a huge window which the chairs faced. Either side of the window were two paintings, one of a mushroom bomb, the other of a red theatre.
Jack got up from his chair and walked towards the window. To his astonishment the room must have been at the top of a huge building for the horizon line stretched out for miles. He looked down and he saw a man walking along a train track. To Jack’s horror a train came rushing from the tunnel behind him. Jack started banging on the window to grab the man’s attention. However, unfortunately, the building was too high up for anyone to notice or see Jack. He knew what the inevitability of the situation below was going to be, and because of his weakness to seeing people die, he turned around, and looked at the three people who now faced him, and starred at him sternly.
“Am I, dead?” said Jack quietly. There was no reply. Now agitated Jack said loudly “Where the hell am I!”. Again the three people opposite said nothing, they simply stared at him without emotion. “Just tell me where I am!” shouted Jack much angrier than ever before. He repeated his question shouting louder every time. Now so agitated Jack picked up the chair he was sitting on, and hurled it at the window, the emotion had grown too great for him. Upon hitting the window, it shattered. He watched one of the glass shards fall to the ground. It turned and rotated while giving of a reflective glow in the sunlight, before smashing onto the ground far below giving of the faintest sound to indicate its inevitable arrival.
Jack stood on the edge of the window, only an inch of flooring protected him from his certain death. He looked down. An ambulance was at the railway tracks. Jack jumped.
Whilst falling in the air, he looked up at the opening he jumped out of; the two men were now standing in his previous position smiling down at him. As the opening grew smaller and smaller, Jack turned his head to look at the ground that would kill him. Just before he hit it, he saw the man that had been hit by the train,
