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Grief I woke up in another cubicle Just like the one I'd originally been kept in But with a different ID number. I stared, dumbfounded, at my reflection in the glass walls.
Why was I still alive? I wasn't supposed to be alive. I was supposed to be sick and dying, Like nearly everyone else in this God-forsaken city.
I should have been, anyways. For the Heaven's sake, Why did I have to be immune?! It wasn't fair Not to those who were sick Their families who were suffering And it wasn't fair to you, love.
Why did such horrible things Have to happen to such beautiful people? Why did it have to be you?
I closed my eyes Thinking that this was the end of our story And cried for all the sadness I had in me.
I cried for you, I cried for my mother, I cried an ocean of tears For all the world Which had suffered a horrible fate For so, so long.
I grieved Because it felt like this was the end Of all good things And the only thing left Was evil.
I cried for hours, it seemed Until someone appeared in front of my cubicle, Peering in at me as if I were an animal at a zoo.
Immediately I disliked him.
I faced utter confusion Lost, unable to figure out Just who this man was Up until the moment when he spoke.
"Oliver Vida?"
And that was when I realized The man on the other side of the glass Knew me From before I'd "contracted the plague" And I Knew him as well.
