The Blissful Grief

Chapter One - Melinda Curtin

Sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades from the effort, even though she was trembling- from the cold or anxiety, she couldn't tell.

She barely had to walk anymore, the crowd pulled her along with it. Everybody was headed to the The Intellect.

Not half of us will remain alive in another hour to two.

A tear slipped from her eye and marked its solemn path down her cheek, she let it fall. It left a smudge in the perfect makeup she'd spent hours on. She had never been a strong girl. She lacked too many attributes that makes a person, she knew. She didn't bother to dab her eyes.

Very soon she could spot the tall buildings of the Intellect. They were hard to miss as each building was identical in all aspects other than height and purpose. They were all white concrete with stripes of black on their tops. No windows, no doors. It was as though the buildings were built around the people inside. She shivered at the thought.
People around her were curious, she could tell. Nobody has ever been let into the Intellect. Movement of human beings beyond the perimeter of a hundred metres from the walls of the Intellect was against law.
Law.

She cringed at the thought. The governments that were once present and made laws....they were overthrown by the Intellects, the ruling committee that showcased enormous power all over the world. At least, whatever was left of the world.
So, ultimately, the laws were those that favoured the Intellects, not the public.

She was being shoved down the street, right into the magnificent but dark entrance of the intellect itself. Her head hung low as she tried to ignore the others around her, buzzing with hope. Hope for life and for a solution to this unfathomable problem.

There is no hope here, she thought sombrely. You are just being herded right into death. But, right now, the chasm between life and death isn't noticeable.