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The war that took place before Benjamin was born is causing an incredibly serious environmental problem. Both sides the enemies and allies used chemicals as weapons. So as a result, it gave a huge bad impact on the ecosystem and the human body.

When it's finally over, the rich—having always been protected in their shelter—then moved to an uncontaminated area. Leaving the commoners and the poor behind to have an absolute hell life; to face extreme poverty and after-war diseases. Benjamin is one of them, the son of a poor peasant family. Fortunately for him, though, he was smart enough to escape premature death and have a significantly longer life. Still, that does not mean he is always in a good health. Like most of those who had suffered from the war, Benjamin, too, used to be frequently ill.

Most of this city's inhabitants are all scrambled into old buildings that got partially destroyed by the war. And in the tiny flat where Benjamin lives, the landlord somehow always finds things he needs to "repair". The walls became so thin that the noise pollution most of the time becomes unbearable—he can even tell exactly what the heck is going on in other flats. Drunkards fight downstairs, wailing cats, people crying... Plugging in earplugs is almost useless.

"God! Please, I want to sleep in a quiet place just once!" cries Benjamin under the pillow.

It's probably because of the incredibly crazy headache he has. Sure, sleeping can be the best remedy to get over it but yet, no matter how—after tossing his body around, closing and opening back his eyes, still do no work. In the end, he manages to fall asleep but in another hour.

Benjamin shoots his twitching eyes up the next morning. He climbs down the bed and has to trip over stuff on the floor. He goes to the kitchen and drinks the remaining tea in the pot as he feels his throat is sore. Glugging the mug until empty, he slams it down on the table before opening the shelf above the sink and pulling out a cracked ugly ceramic bottle. It used to be a spice bottle but now, it becomes a piggy bank.

Benjamin gulps a chunk of saliva, nervous seeing that piggy bank of his. He counts the money over and over before finally back to reality and putting it back in, drawing a long sigh and shrieking, "I'm beyond screwed!"

Not long ago, Benjamin suddenly had to quit his part-time job. Now he has very little left money to support himself. It sure is going to be really hard to pay the next month's rent.


Need to wake himself again, Benjamin grumbles and heads for the bathroom. The cubicle isn't dirty but damaged enough from the corrosion it looks like a disaster area. Well, this is an old building, so no matter how much Benjamin cleans it, the tiles and mirror will always remain cracked with mold and dampness taking over the walls.

The water here is not clean and even after waiting hours for all the mud to come out, it will never become clear. It is easy to find children and adults contaminated with skin diseases here and there. For Benjamin, though, at least he lives right on the outskirts of Ground Zero. To avoid getting sick, he chooses an alternative by buying filtered water and using it rather frequently. But thanks to that, rent is always beyond a headache.

Poor people have to choose between two things: work to death, pay a high price for just breathing, or just die in an unsanitary place. An old weakling (a thirty-something-man) like Benjamin will die immediately upon stepping outside if he doesn't take care of his body.

Benjamin takes off his tattered coat and put on a shirt to go out. In the mirror, Benjamin sees the same old man; thirty-something and tired, looking back at him while brushing his hair. He doesn't look older than his actual age or has a serious illness, but he does look very sad.

Benjamin lifts his lips as if to say, "Cheer up, man!" but he doesn't seem to like the awkward smile very much so it fades quickly. He put down the comb back and takes the key. After closing the front door, he double-checked everything and looks around the disastrous complex—some flats that are spread out here have padding or very elaborate locks.

The hallway is noisy. All the chaos that is semi-hidden by the thin walls is poured all at once on Benjamin's head. He gives them no care and heads downstairs, trying as hard as he could to not make eye contact with anyone. There are eight floors. The cubicle where the elevator is originally located is empty, only showing a gloomy open space. This building is one of the many buildings that is still standing after the war and also used to be a refugee camp.

Outside is noisier than inside; street stalls, onlookers, guards, pickpockets—all mixed together like a horrible jungle. Benjamin lowers his head slightly and walks with his hands in his pockets, looking straight ahead so as not to be intimidated. He simply doesn't want to get caught in the middle of a fight or be surprised by an unexpected character.

This area used to be the old Ground Zero, the best place to live. Although now, it is not more than hell itself. Mugging, robbing, killing. No law. No justice. Not even vigilantes.

Benjamin keeps walking to the busiest place. There is no distinction between a road for cars and a sidewalk for pedestrians. It is just full of people walking and pushing, and most of them look tired or stiff. There are also wagons, too many wagons... But as Benjamin walks along the central alley, about half an hour as the crowd flies, the road becomes evidently cleaner, some truly beautiful buildings appear in sight. So does rare cars and elegant carriages with horses.

Benjamin steps into an employment agency attached to the Central Station building. There is an impressive line of people in the same position, trying to find a job so as not to die of hunger or disease. The thirty-something man fills out an application form, submits it, and sits down. The old leather seat is torn here and there which makes Benjamin wonder will it scratch his thighs until bled. There are no other empty seats. And since he still had a headache, being there is better than standing.

Within a minute, an agitated middle-aged bearded man in a suit calls out his name.

"Benjamin Colton?"

Benjamin jumps from his seat and walks over to the man waving his one hand. In front of him who is now going through his resume, Benjamin clenches his fists nervously, unconsciously furrowing his brows, and begins to pray to God for a goddamn opportunity. 

Still carefully examining the resume, the man asks again, "Your age is...?"

"I'm thirty-six."

That is already written on his resume. But since there are many cases in which people lie, face-to-face verification is necessary.

"You look younger than your age. Um...I gave you a job already, a few months ago. I remember it perfectly. You quit and now you're back."

"I didn't quit, they actually fired me."

There are so many cases in which people get fired only due to the whims of the boss or manager. This happens because those people usually loathe the poor or sick.

"Hmm, what did you do before this?"

"I work as a counter and in the warehouse. I can write and read, too."

"I see. Can you do calculations?"

"Yes, I can."

For the first time, the middle-aged man is showing a brighter look. Benjamin wants to appear ambitious, and determined. So he straightens his back and readies himself to attentively answer all of the questions. But then, the middle-aged man seems to realize something. His brows furrow.

"It says here that you didn't stay for long in this place. Is there something wrong with you?"

As expected, time is also an issue.

Now, the middle-aged man takes a closer look at Benjamin as if saying, "I found your secret." or "You don't look in good shape."

Looks like Benjamin is going to miss out on a job opportunity.

"You have to go to the reference office and well, we will contact you if there is a job."

What a cliché. A way of saying "Thank you but no thanks."

With that, Benjamin leaves and decides to go to the market. He still isn't into the plans of starving himself to death on the bed. He buys some stale bread, stew, and a few groceries before finally returning to his rundown flat. Today is a sad day, so he is going to eat them right away. He pours milk, cream, and flour into the stew and cooks it so desperately that he starts to get a little scared. Benjamin has forgotten the last time he ate his fill.

Benjamin leaves the spoon and bowl alone to sit on the sofa after done eating. He stares at the ceiling, but at some point, realizes that the surroundings are already dark enough. Benjamin gets up, one small step at a time, and stands by the window to look outside: the setting sun makes the buildings dazzle as perfectly as usual and the trees, too, look so ethereal...

However, amidst the boundless beauty of the dusk, there are sounds of groans and moans that prick Benjamin's ears. It's probably the man downstairs mingling his body with another man. He is a short small man who looks like a teenager but has been selling his body since time Benjamin can remember.

Benjamin slams the window shut. Not forgetting to also draw the curtains to prevent light from entering, leaving just enough light from the kitchen window so as not to stumble around. Electricity is a luxury here, so Benjamin lit only enough candles in the necessary corners. 

Tonight, Benjamin goes to bed early, but like any other night, he can't sleep well. The drunkards have started their riot outside.






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