He stares at the junkyard of metals from his spot on the rooftop. Ashes carpet the ground in a dull gray and the air burns with the acidic scent of chemicals. Another scream tears at his throat, but it can’t seem to make it past the coarse sandpaper walls, having been run dry from tears. A tear rolls down his cheek, the droplet quickly disappearing amongst the thick sheets of rain.

       Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Thunk, thump, thump. Footsteps.

       “Hey. You okay?” His colleague stands to his right, dark hair matted wet and plastered across his face as the rain takes its course. Pitter-patter.

        “Hey. And I will be, probably.” He rasps out, hating the way his voice cracks. 

        Silence stretches out between them. The rain hammers down relentlessly, beating against scrap metal. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

         His colleague clears his throat, “So, uh. You need a minute? I mean, it’s ten past call time, but if you’d like, we could—”

        “I’m fine.”

        “You sure? Seriously, it’s alright if you—”

        “I’m fine.” He says, more defiant this time,” I’ll be okay. I just…”

        He looks back at the hunk of metal that lay where his sister once stood. It's still there; slanted, a corner jutting out from the masses. Smoke pours in thick plumes from underneath. Rain splatters across its surface, running down the many ledges and tapering off into the shadows. His heart falls heavy. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

        “I’ll be okay.” He says. “It was going to happen.”

        His colleague leans against the railing. “Not ready to say goodbye?”

        “I’ll be okay.” He cast one more look at the battered landscape. Tearing his eyes away, he turns his back. His heart claws at his ribcage in protest as he steps into the building. Darkness immediately engulfs his senses. He turns on a flashlight.

         “I’ll be okay.” He whispers.

          Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.