The Corrupted (Completed - editing)

Chapter 37 - "I am a Wildfire"

I awaken to the gruellingly persistent noise of an alarm. This, along with my sleepless night, was just a mere insight of how today would go.

The challenge to push aside my need to see Flynn and desire to Ethan was ever-present, as let out a deep sigh, stepping up from my bed in a zombie-like fashion, shuffling over to my desk where Lee had lain out fresh clothes for me. Grey shirt and grey cargo pants, which were way too big for me – not that that's a shock. I hadn't expected a specifically tailored suit, or anything. This must be my new uniform now that I'm just another one of the mindless sheep.

I quickly change into the scratchy material, saying goodbye to my somewhat comfortable previous outfit from the hospital. I turn around, scanning the room for some kind of mirror, only to find the same 4 blank concrete walls. Again, I'm not surprised.
It's probably one of their techniques to mental torture, not to see yourself – to forget your identity.

This, along with the disappearance of windows, were all methods of psychological suffering. But I couldn't let them win. I won't.

I let out a brief sigh, smoothing my hair back into a ponytail and heading towards the door. Placing my hand under the small nook in the wall which contained a scanner, I waited briefly before feeling a large jab stick into my arm. I yank my hand back as it releases, the door swiftly opening.

"What the hell..." I mumbled, rubbing the red hole in my skin, where it looks as if a needle had been inserted. 'No,' I think, remembering Lee's words, 'They're just giving me nutrients that I haven't been receiving, nothing more,' I grunt, shaking my head before stepping outside.

Today, I'd planned, was going to be simple. I was to stay as far away from Ethan at all costs. No exceptions. There could be absolutely no clue that we were in away way connected.

As far as I know the government is in the dark about this one, and I plan to keep it that way.

The lights bore brightly into my eyes, as I attempted adjust myself from the dark. I rub my eyes, and while blinded I find myself being slammed against the wall by people rushing to get past. I let out a grunt of protest, as I'm squashed into the wall, causing me to slide down. I pull my legs up to my chest, sheltering my head inside while I wait for the trampling people to pass.

After a few moments I open my eyes, squinting, to find the floor was empty. I look around, noticing the large masses of people walking below, and decide with a struggle that I should stand.

I wince, glancing down to notice a small, but deep cut that was already beginning to bruise.

"Great," I say, covering the cut with material from my pants, "Just another scar to add to the collection."

Fumbling my way back up the wall, I walk slowly over to the ladder and begin my descent. The anger bubbles up within me as I mumble incoherent things, yet I continue down the ladder until reaching the bottom.

I glance around, noticing the swarm of people seemed to be flooding towards the cafeteria. I decide it would simply be best to join them, rather than try and navigate the opposite way.

And in that moment, I am normal. I am one of them, one of the sick beings altered by our leaders – but, I'm normal. Another face in the crowd, shuffling towards their slow and imminent death.

And while I know for certain that this is life that I live, for that is the world that we live – I find myself wondering if the people before me that walked this earth lived the same. I find myself pondering whether those before me understood how much they had. Whether they truly lived. Whether they understood all that they had gave up, just for this torturous reality.