Ominous Stranger

One

Never underestimate the determination the human body encompasses in order to stay alive. It doesn't hesitate to go into protection mode and do whatever it takes to keep you breathing and it's a damn shame when the body continues to try when you've already died. Even though you're dead, your lungs continue to inhale oxygen, your muscles ache from the lack of nutrition, and your heart continues to beat even when indescribably cold. The need to survive is strong, but the need to live is deteriorating. My will to fight is slowly dying with my need to stay alive.

The rain falls into an unnatural rhythm, just like my heart; slow and unpredictable. You never know when it'll pick up or stop all together. Raindrops continue their fall to the cement ground as they have been for the last however long. I can't remember the last time it wasn't raining with the sun peeking through the clouds as you feel the warmth of the sun's rays on your skin or the touch of someone who wasn't a mere threat. There nothing pleasant to remember, they made sure of that.

Maybe it's a good thing that I don't remember, because in order to do such things, you need to have emotion towards those memories. In the world I live in, emotions are what will get you killed – that is if the virus doesn't kill you first. In a sense, emotions are what keep you sane, keeps you focusing on the need to survive a little bit longer. I guess you can say I'm slowly going insane, at least then I'll be numbed from the pain. But, only for a little while, until you're thrown against a wall that brings you back to reality. I've hit that wall so many times, I've lost count. Sometimes I hope the next time I hit it, it will snap my neck in two – I'm not that lucky.

A gust of wind manages to squeeze passed the tiny crevasses of the broken window and dances across my face, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin. I long for the winds to tangle in my hair and the feeling of the grass between my toes, but instead I'm locked inside a cell with a window that taunts me with the outside. The thought of breaking the window has crossed my mind more times than I'd like to admit and it wouldn't be so hard if it weren't for the constant surveillance I'm under.

In the beginning, there were over 300 human subjects, each having their own guard to watch their every move. Unfortunately, as the virus continued to claim the lives of the innocent, the number of guards began to slowly triple over the remaining survivors; until they were only left with one sole survivor – me. For twenty-four hours, I'm on constant lockdown and have multiple eyes watching every time I blink, stretch, and sleep. I'm never really alone, even if I'm feeling as though I am.  

A voice from the loudspeakers pulls me from my thoughts. "Preparations for the examination of Cavia Porcellus 156 will commence in fifteen minutes. All personnel make their way to cellblock B for proper detoxification of Cavia Porcellus 156."

Cavia Porcellus 156 was all that I registered. My eyes immediately travel down to my forearm, following my fingers that are gently brushing against the slightly elevated skin where my three digit identification code continues to mock me. I am nothing more than a three digit number who is destined to deal with the torment and discouraging results. There are days where I want to just claw this number away, erase it, and have the burden of being degraded as a human being gone. I'm left wondering if this number defines my character and who I once was. My name is, Aly – Cavia Porcellus 156 and that's all I'll ever be.   

The balls of my feet slide along the cement paneling as my head hangs low in an uneven balance between my shoulders. I can't help myself from pacing back and forth to either side of cell, because that's all that there really is to do. At first, all that I would do was cry, but now I don't have the energy or the ability to do so. It takes me exactly ten steps to walk the entire length of the cell and five steps to walk the width. Sometimes I like to close my eyes as I walk and imagine the room growing in size with each step, but the moment I open my eyes, I'm still enclosed in a room with four cemented walls, locked away with only my sanity. Too bad my sanity has a better chance of escaping than I do.