It's Not True

"Nancy Ebb. Homo Supremus. Mars. 23. Arrived on Earth 365 days ago with The Order. Escaped approximately 246 days ago. Currently resides in the Underground, smuggling medicine into a compound for the last surviving Homo Sapiens. Did I miss anything?" I freeze and turn around. The man takes one last draw from his cigarette and drops it to the ground, crushing it thoroughly with the tip of his boot.

"You're worth millions Nancy." His voice is a whisper, but I could hear every syllable, every rise and dip of his voice. The hairs on my neck are erect.

There are many ways to describe shock. Wide eyes, an increased heartrate, goosebumps. Stomach twisting, hands flying to chest, disorientation, and hopelessness. Feeling as if the whole world is breaking, crumbling apart around you, and not being able to keep up with your senses. The inability to comprehend what you're seeing or hearing or feeling. It's scary. To be on the ground, but in the air at the same time. Every pulse, every breath, like a thousand explosives travelling through your body. Shock is more painful than any other emotion, because you can never anticipate it.

"I have to go." I say quickly, stepping onto the tarmac.