Under your skin

Chapter 1

 Author's notes                                                                                                                                                        Sorry, I hate author's notes too, but I just wanted to say to take my writing with a pinch of salt, I don't write often. Also, the story isn't finished and I probably won't finish it unless people actually like it. 

Inequality is rife in every society, and this one is no different. The luxuries of living in the brain and the lavish lifestyle of nerve cells contrast starkly against the downtrodden existence of the those living in the rib cage, navigating the dark back streets and eating at greasy dinners that are a front for serotonin laundering. A life that contrasts again with the sleepy, easy-going life in the intestines, sorting nutrients in the morning and knitting the afternoon away. For a pathogen living in the circulatory system, life is full of disadvantage and dirty looks on the bus. Despite the overall success of movements for the equality of pathogens, they're still seen as violent and rude. But for a disease, the only life where you're accepted or useful is one of crime.

Sherry Bomb leant against an iron wall, nonchalantly staring at the mouth of the alley, a convenient block between passers by and the door next to her, marked in large red letters 'Lung Staff Only'. She was thinking over her situation, as she often did while keeping a lookout, and was wondering what would have happened if she had declined the offer made to her so long ago.

'You'd have been absorbed. You weren't welcome in society and you knew it.' said a voice in Sherry's head. It didn't match her real voice, or her conscious thoughts, but it had been her voice of reason since she joined the community. She knew it was right, but she still wished she could have had a more fulfilling life than the one laid out for her by Magpie.

'Don't be ungrateful. Your promotion has done you the world of good, and you're off the pole now, aren't you?' the voice chimed in smoothly. Sherry had to agree again. Even for a Chlamydia cell, stripping in the back alley clubs of the rib cage was the lowest form of income. The off duty lymphocytes loved to flaunt their badges in the hopes of a free dance, and treated the dancers like dirt. Sherry remembered wandering the streets when Magpie found her, and even then she could tell that when Magpie looked at her she wasn't seeing her clothes. She had felt so ashamed, she'd declined the offer when she was first asked, feeling that a life of isolation was better than a life of degradation, but when Magpie had grabbed her throat and forced her backwards until she was against the wall, saying no hadn't felt like an option. She remembered Magpie's nails digging into her hip and shuddered, and realised that she hadn't been watching the street. If they got caught, they'd be left to the phagocytes, and that line of thought didn't have much appeal. An alarm sounded, jerking Sherry out of her thoughts, and the door burst open into Sherry's shoulder and hit her claws, leaving deep scratches in the metal. 'Shit!'. Sherry knew that the scratches were going to be really incriminating, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. Five cells sprinted out of the door, carrying drab brown satchels stuffed full of nicotine. One of them, Magpie, grabbed Sherry by the wrist and wasted no time in stuffing her pockets with more nicotine. They started running towards the bus at the end of the street, heading for the Vena Cava. Both of them knew that, if they were caught with the illegal drug in these quantities, there was no hope for them. 'Shit shit shit shit shit'. Behind her, she could hear the lymphocytes requesting the phagocytes' backup, and Sherry urged herself on, pulling her arm from Magpie's grip. Magpie swerved suddenly, ducking down a side street and leaving Sherry alone in the open. Distracted, Sherry looked to see where Magpie had gone, and ran straight into a passing pedestrian, knocking them both over. Sherry lay on the ground, and checked that the nicotine bag was undamaged. The two looked at each other, and Sherry felt a long forgotten memory surface.