Last Delivery

Mother is sleeping, her chest struggling to raise and fall at a steady pace. Amir sighed
with concern, but the sight of her peaceful expression brought him with a little relief.

“I’ll be home soon.” He said softly, picking up his coat from the floor.

It was a typical day in the city, rain pouring from the dark skies making downtown’s neon
lights reflect off every surface. While the cleansing scent of rain drowned the district, it definitely
didn’t wash away the filth and grime of the city’s alleys. Ever since war broke out, the country
began to fall apart. Crime rose at an exponential rate, blaring holographic screens displayed all
the wrongs in the world, and to top it all off, you can still hear the faint cries of rage and sorrow
shallowly sweeping through the air. Your action packed movies became a reality, painting its
scenes on streets and sidewalks.
Amir slid his hood over his head, hanging his head low as he walked across the street
trying to avoid contact with the two arguing men next to him. Due to his and his mother’s
circumstances, Amir often had to job hop in order to survive. Luckily, the market he had recently
worked for was around the corner from home.

“I’m here to pick-up my paycheck from last week,” Amir said quietly, unfolding a piece of
paper containing his hours for that week. The employer scoffed, examining the drenched boy’s
features. Soaked coat, messy hair black hair and a battered gray t-shirt.

“I don’t remember hiring a gutter rat into my business,” he spat.

Amir glanced up at the older man as he placed the sheet on his desk, the business’s logo
clearly printed on the corner of the paper.
“Forty-seven hours last week?” the owner asked, raising an eyebrow as he peeked over
the thin sheet of paper, “Don’t you have school?”
“I don’t go to school,” Amir replied trying to wipe away his little puddles off the floor with
his shoe.
The employer chuckled, crumpling the paper and tossing it into a trash can. He leaned
forward into his desk, tightly grabbing Amir by his chin and pulling him forward with a sharp
expression,
“You’re a liar, typical for your kind of people, you’re the reason we’re in this war
anyways.”
Amir winced, biting his tongue as he fought the tears building in his eyes. He knew he
was no liar, he just wanted to help his mother, but his employer wouldn’t believe that. Quiet
murmurs began to surround them. After taking a quick glance around, he became aware of their
new audience. Nobody was helping him. Nobody will help him, not even law enforcement. Ever
since the police were defunded, it's almost as if the true monsters among us revealed
themselves to be none other than the same humans we’ve known our entire lives.
The employer sneered and pushed Amir back, opening a drawer and slapping a small
wad of cash on the desk, “fifty dollars, take it or leave it.”
 Amir slowly grabbed the money, knowing that the medication was double the price. He
cringed at the thought of asking for more cash.
After exiting the building, heart-wrenching sobs tore through his chest as he stood in the
middle of the street, faint sounds of aerial traffic and distant city ambience concealing his sharp
breaths and inaudible murmuring. The world has grown more threatening, only those who saw
through the vile and brutal outline of our society will bring out a light. Amir wiped his face with
his palm and swallowed trying to relieve the tightness in his throat. He quickly composed himself
and began walking towards the direction of the nearest pharmacy, the directions embedded in
his head.
“The deeper you go, the darker it gets,” a common saying around the district, quite
unfortunate being that the necessities for survival for many are located in the crevasses of the
city. Amir always kept his hood on while making errands, especially in rather decolate areas like
these. He not only wanted to reduce his visibility, but because of who he was. Due to the lack of
police, hate crimes were common. Amir turned his last corner before arriving at a small closed
off alleyway, the pharmacy’s lit up sign was much dimmer than last month.
“Another attempted break in?” Amir questioned as he inspected the buildings worsened
condition. The AI paused as it’s facial recognition processed,
“Unfortunately, same medication?”
Amir nodded as he placed the small stack of cash, along with the rest of his food savings
for that month. He couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he watched the artificial-being
scoop up the money and begin searching through it’s endless shelves of prescriptions. It was
rumored that robots would take over the world, but it seems that they’re more considerate than
real people, they don’t judge nor have they caused any crime.
“See you next month,” the AI gently placed the bottle of pills on the counter and waved
with a peppy demeanour despite its damaged form.
Amir eagerly made his way home, his steps turning into heavy stomps against the
sidewalk’s moderately flooded surfaces. He ignored the fact that running would draw attention to
him, the thought of home brought warmth and motivation. It seemed as if the world had gone
darker within one month, his trips to the pharmacy and work growing harder.
The young boy wiggled his coat off in front of the half busted metal door of their small
apartment building, it’s soaked sleeves sticking against the worn out walls of the compex. He
opened the door, holding the medication up with a relieved smile, but immediately faded as his
announcement for arriving home received no acknowledgement.
Her face was still peaceful, but her chest had fallen still. Amir fell silent to his knees, the
overwhelming burn that surged through his chest. It seems as though the cruelty of the world
has brought him to his last delivery.