There were no skies to be witnessed, no blue ocean with clashing water above in the mighty heavens, only the limbs of towering figures smothering me as I stumbled through ever-growing stampede of faceless souls, caging me in this endless circle of substitute wandering.

The bodies of corse fabrics ruffle against my bare arms as I push my way through the sea of lively limbs. The arch in my muscles fade to the back of my thoughts as I seemingly pull my way through the bodies of the strangers amongst me, never truly knowing if I'm getting any closer to the closure of my small apartment, high above the mindless crowds below.

I'd just left the gruelling place that had me preforming simple movements with the same motion for thousands of minutes a day, for dimes to survive on, some also like to call it a job, I prefer to call it my own designated hell.

Gazing through the sea of swaying heads, I spot the small windows amongst the faded bricks that comes into view a few meters down from where I'm being pushed forward. My sore feet collide with dust riddle steps leading to the entice of the building, I lift my gaze towards the cluster of bodies below with a passive stare casting out over them as the overbearing scent of mixed colognes begins to fade a bit as I distance myself from the crowd.

There's more of them today, more people, more hustle then usual.

The odd sensation of my gut hollowing leaves my throat constricting from the fume polluted air.

People are a funny thing, able to control their thoughts with just a simple live wire within their own minds, in such a way that there are capable of constructing objects of pure beauty; build whole civilisations with such intricate details that you would never stop searching for new concepts that they had implanted into these marvels that they call their own, yet in crowd they seemingly become one thoughtless mass, nothing behind heir individual gazes as they stomp forward, unseeing of the world outside of their cluster.

The study of the human mind; or any creatures mind for that matter, is one that is so fascinating, because the thoughts are one that holds so many intricate details, so many emotions, so much wonder that fills me with a need to learn about the ever-growing organism. Some try to understand the mind to better control the masses around them, to tame, to control them, but they will never truly be able to take hold of a mind, because the mind never stops learning, therefor it can never truly be contained.

I never attended a class specific to this topic, mostly because I never made it past senior year; money was tight or just plainly not there and the few shifts I was able to pick up after work weren't ever enough to cover everything, especially with the prices rising on even the basic needs we needed; that Eliana needed.

So when I get a spare moment to myself, I flip open the crappy laptop I had brought from a friend a few years ago and surf through the many articles that swamp the internet, and with a cramped hand, I swirl the new findings on the glowing screen into the wrinkled notebook I brought on sale. Oddly enough, a way to escape the thoughts that bind my own mind is to wander through another's.

My nibble fingers wrap around the cold nob laced to the flacking paint on the door. A brisk heat flashes over me as I enter the small complex I call home, letting the door swing closed behind me with a thud. The slim envelope slips between my fingertips and onto the waterlogged wood that makes of the base of the bench, as I circle around the interior of it.

With the lukewarm liquid slipping down my throat, my gaze flicks over to the creaking sofa as my Nana sits ideally in the faded green shape, eyes unmoving from the small glowing box in-front of her as the news rambles on about the cold flu that's recently been going around different towns around the state.

"Hey Nan-nan...hows today been." She doesn't answer, not even a flinch in her movements, so I'm unsure if she even heard me, placing the cup down with a light click, I slowly creep over, so not to startle her.

Floorboards creek beneath the soles of my snickers, "Nana? Everything okay?" Her eyes stay unwavering from the square, her usual dried, white hair takes a slight reddish tint as the screen turns a deep red and the wrinkled skin around her knuckles go taut as she grips the hands of the chair that is typically rocking.

"Nana?" My voice is just above a whisper as my fingertips graze the top of her shoulder.

Her eyes widen and pools of the golden ocean stare up at my hunched over figure, her tired features pinch in confusion.

"Oh, Naseria, sorry I didn't even hear you come in," her voice is frail as her grip loosens on the sofa and she repositions herself. The chair creeks as she flicks the screen off, leaving an unnerving silence within the small apartment.

"Is Eliana home as well." I simply answer with a swift shake of my head, trying not to focus on the way she wheezes with each breath she takes, struggling with the basic movement that comes so easily to those around her.

It's been two weeks now since the symptoms first started, it's only been a simple cough for most of it, but Nana seems to be unnerved by the flu shes contracted from some random stranger a few weeks ago, not verbally, just how silent shes fallen since coming down with it, the pale contrast that has taken over her normal glowing skin.

At times, like before, she just goes silent entirely, and normal gestures aren't able to pull her out of the state like they typically would be able too.

Makes me ponder if the flu is affecting her in more ways then my mind is able capable of seeing.

"Hopefully she isn't far of, its not safe out there," her stare never wavers from the door, somewhat in a trace.

With the envelope in between my slender fingers, I rip the steel open and begin counting each individual paper note, as a metallic scent wafts up from in-between the white paper.

"Eliana is fine, shes taken that route so many times before, and I took that route when I was younger, nothing ever happened. It has to many people going through it for anyone to do anything sketchy," I say as I round up the last of the notes, glaring at them.

Fucking kidding me? Two hundred and twenty-five-dollars for forty-two hours of my bloody hard work, for not even half of what I'm supposed to be payed?

Fuck Greg and he's greedy fucking ass, since he wants the money so bad, why doesn't he buss all of the tables, and fill their waters, run the food and clean up a kids vomit when he's eaten to fast, since he apparently doesn't have enough money already.

Nana's mumbled words slip through the cracks of my thoughts, pulling my attention away from the painfully tiny envelope.

Through flaws nostrils, I breath in deeply. "I'm sorry nan-nan, I was just," I set my eyes on the pitiful money again with such a fire in my glare that you would half expect it to light up in flames, but it doesn't, so I just toss it down on the bench once again. "I was else where, can you please repeat that for me, Nan-nan?"

Her gaze is back on the flimsy door once again, although, I'm not sure if she even let her puffy eyes wander from it to began with. "I said that's not what I'm afraid of out there," her words come slow and drawn out.

My brows pinch together, "are you talking about the flu?"

She merely nods.

"It's nothing to worry about, its just a flu that's a little more catchable than the previous ones before it, okay?" My tone is softer now, as I kneel down in-front of her, caressing your frail hand in my own.

"And you had all the flu shots and vaccines updated earlier this year, there is absolutely nothing you have to be worried about."

Her gaze is no longer fixated on the door, but on nothing, as though shes deep in thought. A beat passes before her thin lips open.

"It's killing people now."

Her gaze shifts to mine the lines in her face now deeper than they have ever been, "people are dying, Naseria."

My body goes taut as a shiver runs down my back, and I just sit there, knees pressed against the corse floor, unmoving, not thinking, unable to as her words run laps in my mind.

I draw a deep breath in, "people are dying? But how it-its just the flu, its just a bad cough, how-ho."

Bundles of white tissues settle in pile on the torn-up carpet, each individual one soaked in a crimson so bright it makes the scenery appear somewhat lifeless around it. Without looking back up at her, I pull my self up to my feet, now with great struggle, as though cement has been poured into my bones.

"We need to get to the hospital, now."

Chapter One | Bodies

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