Chapter 1 - A World Gripped In Isolation

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The ferry pitched down and swelled back up with the waves as I leaned against the safety railing, holding on for dear life. There was a part of me that wouldn't mind if I fell overboard; and a part of me that wants to hold on for dear life.

My mind was in turmoil as I watched the golden sun flicker off the purple and green glass of the tall skyscrapers. I watched the water as it boiled below me; churned by the turbines of the engines as the ferry steamed towards the Port of Bremerton. I breathed deep, the salty air and sighed.

'Looks like rain.' seeing grey clouds gather over the Cascades.

I plugged into my MP3 player as I needed a moment to calm down and reset. My mind was still reeling from the excitement, hope, and sorrow:

 My mind was still reeling from the excitement, hope, and sorrow:

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'Well damn!' I thought as I tried my best not to think about it. 'What a waste of time this is!'

My silvery-blue eyes soaked up the afterglow shimmering off the glass towers as the city of Seattle...it certainly does not look the same now. With that viaduct long gone and the waterfront being slowly transformed into a massive park for the homeless, it was nothing like the safe industrial city that I once visited as a kid.

Long gone was the King Dome and now the Alaskan Way viaduct...and yet, there was a part of me that hoped that the change would rub off on me. That one day I would look at the transformed city and think...

'Beautiful...as it was meant to be.'

The city was like a reflection of my own life: In the past, I had everything that I could ever want; but now, uncertainty ruled my life.

Cold, I turned away from my failure and walked across the rough metal floor as I went inside to warm up. The scent of burnt coffee and greasy confections offended my senses, but at the same time, it turned my stomach sour with the gently sway of the ship.

Even the ferry itself had an odd, off-place scent about it. You could say that it was the smell of the years long past. The scent of age, neglect, and prevalence. The ferry was a symbol of endurance and punishment. Pushing through any storm, taking wear and tear with its occupation while being a servant of the community that had asked far too much of its diesel engines.

I saw my best friend sitting at one of the iron tables as she was busy sketching in her sketchpad.

She was like me, an aspiring artist how just waiting to be 'discovered'.

Together, we worked to find one another jobs...but we both keep coming up short every time. She was focused on her fashion designs as I called out to her as we had both agreed to meet on this ferry as we sailed back home.

"Hey Ember!" I say with a bright smile as I try to act confident and assure of myself. She looked up from her paper as she smiled at me ever so brightly. We have been best friends for as far back as I can remember. We went to school together, lived in the same community and had the same interests.

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