The bell rings, interrupting my teacher midsentence with a sudden explosion of shuffling and scraping as kids jump out of their seats. I glance around, still not used to this. This school year is finally over and I have a whole summer ahead of me to mope about the idea of sixth grade. I pack up my books and slide them neatly into my backpack. I set my face into my hands and rest my elbows on the fake plastic wood of my desk. Waiting. This is what I do every freaking day. I wait for all the other immature kids to leave the room before I do. I jump from my plastic chair that is connected to my desk with metal poles.
I shuffle into the hallway, my red flip-flops smacking the floor with each step. Something is wrong. Unnatural. The feeling I get when I look around forms a light knot n my stomach that can only be described by nervousness and fear. Where is everybody? The hallway is bare, and my flip flops echo through the silent corridor. I look around, feeling my eyes widen. Did everyone leave already? That can’t be right.
I hear a scuffling behind me, and I spin around. My wild eyed teacher, Mr. Hawklins, is carrying a stack of papers and is running towards the doors. “Mr. Hawklins?!” I shout after him. But, he either doesn’t hear me, or is in too much of a rush that he ignored me, so he doesn’t look back.
I shrug, heading in the direction of my locker. My eyes swim through the ocean of royal blue lockers that line the wall, looking for mine. 4086, 4086, 4086… there it is! I stride over to it. I throw my backpack onto the ground and lean over, twisting the combination lock into the code only I know. I swing open the door, and its squeak shatters through the silence and I wince. I scan the neat row of my books as I slip in my math book from the last period into the loose space where it belongs.
Suddenly, the doors at the end of the hall burst open, and I jump. My 19 year old brother, Carter, runs into the hallway, a relieved look in his deep blue eyes. He speeds over to me and throws my backpack over his shoulder. He lands a peck on the top of my head and grabs my hand. His is cold and sweaty with fear. What is going on? But, before I can ask him anything, he kicks the locker door shut with an exploding BAM! He yanks me down the hallway, pulling me by my hand like a dog yanking on a leash. No matter how hard I try, he won’t let go.
He pulls me after him down the long echoing hallway, our footsteps rebounding off the walls. “What’s going on?” I ask him, worried. There must be some sort of shooting. Decades ago, in the twenty first century, there were maniacs who would go to schools with guns and murder people. I mean, does that really happen anymore though?
“Carter!” I shout, and he halts, spinning around to face me. “What?!” He yells back, annoyed, like I should know what is happening. He must see the confused look in my eyes because he squeezes my hand and says, “Okay. Don’t freak out, but we need to get out of here as soon as possible.” He glances around, nervous, “There was a sudden outbreak of a fatal disease called Annaria. It already has killed thousands and the entire world is on lockdown mode. We need to leave now.” He yanks again on my hand and starts running down the hall.
What?! Annaria? Thousands already dead? I feel confusion flash across my face and fear knots in my heart as we make our way through the winding hallway.
When the corridor finally ends, Carter and I burst through the doors to find the normally empty schoolyard is jam-packed with people. Kids run around laughing and screaming, while their worried parents stand and watch the large screen that hasn’t been used in years. I can feel my hand start to sweat in Carter’s tight grip and I scan the clearing for my parents. “Over here.” Carter tells me and I let him drag me to our fear struck parents.
“Katrina!” My mom runs towards me with open arms while screeching my name. Carter finally releases my hand, and the cold air envelopes it. My mom tackles me in a hug and I groan in her tight embrace. “We were so worried. It’s okay. Don’t be scared.” My eyebrows furrow. I’m not scared. Things like this will happen whether I like it or not. I sneak a glance at my dad, who is leaning against the brick wall of the school. He is tall, muscular and handsome, besides the fact that he hasn’t shaved in days. His light brown hair glints in the sunlight and he winks at me with a worried smile. Okay, I admit, I’m a little scared.
My mom lets go of me and I exhale loudly. She opens her mouth to say something to me but is interrupted by the sound of crackling speakers.
“EXCUSE ME, CITIZENS OF CHIGACO.” A powerful female voice booms through the yard, turning everyone silent. “THIS IS ROSA GOODFEILD SPEAKING.” Rosa Merriam? She is the head of the healing department in our country. “I WANT TO SAY THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR, BUT I WON’T. ANNARIA WILL KILL YOU IF IT GETS INTO YOUR BLOODSTREAM. WE ARE NOW OFFICIALLY ON LOCKDOWN MODE.  IT HURTS THAT I HAVE TO BE THE ONE TO TELL YOU THIS, BUT YOU NEED TO KNOW. EUROPE IS GONE. ANNARIA SWEPT THROUGH AND KILLED EVERYONE. NOT A SINGLE SOUL LEFT. ASIA IS GETTING THE WORST OF IT NOW, AND IF WE DON’T PREPARE, WE. WILL. BE. NEXT. TO ALL DIRECTIONS OF YOU, YOU WILL SEE OFFICERS PASSING OUT MASKS. PUT THE MASK ON AND HEAD HOME. BUT BE CAREFUL NOT TO TOUCH ANYONE. THIS DISEASE CAN SPREAD THROUGH THE SLIGHTEST TOUCH OF A HAND. THANK YOU, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. BE SAFE. THIS IS ROSA GOODFEILD GOODBYE.”
A chilling silence rests over the clearing, despite the fact that there is about a hundred people here. I look around everyone seems dazed, even the children. Europe is gone? How is that even possible? I feel my dad’s strong grip squeeze my hand and I fight back tears. “We need to leave. Now.”

I blink and I am sitting on the cold metal bench again. My butt feels numb and tingly from sitting too long and I stand up, stretching. The cold air feels especially cold on my face, where the wet remnants of salty tears lay under my eyes. I sniffle and wipe my face with the cuff of my long sleeved shirt. It comes back with a wet stain and I groan in acknowledgement.
I need to go home. I have to. If I don't turn myself in, I’m putting the ones around me in danger. A sob bursts through me once again, but I control myself. Tomorrow, I will be in a hospital, living my last hours. God, why can’t favor ever be on my side? I spit on the ground and examine it. Not surprisingly, it is wet, bubbly, and staining the pavement. But the thing that did shock me was the fact that it was see through. Transparent. Clear.
Not black.
I thought for sure signs of Annaria would have started to show up by now. I sigh, taking a small step forward. And another. And another, until I am so focused on walking home, I don't even realize what I had done until I had reached my destination.
I. Am. Going. To. Kill. My. Mom. This will literally kill her. I am all she has left, and if she loses me, she is nothing. After I die, she will be either so focused on getting a cure that she goes insane, or she will kill herself. Neither sounds too good, if you ask me.
I look up at the familiar small grey house that I had led myself to. Most of the square windows are dark except for a small window farther back that leads to my mom’s bedroom. She is probably waiting up for me. Great. Just perfect. The grass on the lawn had been perfectly and freshly cut by the city landscapers this morning and it glimmers in the crisp moonlight.
This is my last chance to turn back. I twist my head around, staring at the world around me.
No.
I have to turn myself in. I am going to die anyway. Why not be in my mother’s arms and not on some bench in the middle of nowhere? I sigh loudly and stride towards the front door. The dull golden doorknob taunts me as my hand reaches for it. Maybe if I can skip the blood test I can explain to my mom what is going on?
BEEP! A burst of electricity runs up my arm and sends chills down my spine, reminding me that I forgot to draw blood. The familiar syringe sides of a small compartment to my left and an arm stretches up to my vein. “Prepare for your drawing.” A robotic female voice blasts through the quiet night. I wince, taking the syringe and placing it over the inside of my elbow, above the bulging vein. A small scar lies on the fragile skin from countless drawings from countless days before. The long needle plunges in with a tight pinch but I don’t even wince. I have gotten over my childish fear of needles. Imagine having to get a blood-test every time you enter your house.
I feel tears pricking the corners of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks as I wait for the loud sirens to go off. The needle extracts itself from my arm and I see the syringe suddenly full of my poisoned blood. I close my eyes as sobs shake my body.
I am going to die.

Is this how they felt? A memory appears in my closed eyelids...
Tears run down my face as I listen through the closed door. “What are we going to do? He can’t leave me, Carter! He can’t leave me! Please! I can’t do this on my own!” My mom’s piercing cries fill the entire house, ripping my heart to shreds.
Daddy has Annaria... Daddy has Annaria... Daddy has Annaria...
The thought repeats itself over and over in my mind, but it never seems to process. This can’t be real. But I know from the wet tears sliding down my face and my mother’s screams in the next room that it is.
Daddy is going to die.
“How long do we have?” My mom’s voice comes out in a whimper. A sob lurches my body but I bite the sleeve of my shirt to stop myself from screaming. Daddy is going to die... Daddy is going to die... Daddy is going to die... “Not long. A day at the most. His saliva is already black.” My older brother’s deep voice responds. It sounds worried and shaky. I hear a muffled sob and I know that my mom has buried her face into Carter’s shirt and is crying. Hearing her in pain only wrenches my gut even more.
I hear about hundreds of deaths caused by Annaria on the daily announcements, but I never thought it would hit so close. This isn’t possible. I will never see Daddy again... I will never see Daddy again... I will never see Daddy again...
When was the last time I saw Dad? When was the last time our eyes met? I had been standing in the front hall, watching him walk up our small sidewalk and waiting for the door to swing open and let him in. His eyes lit up when he saw me and a grin burst onto his mouth. He gave me a small wave before setting his bags down and rolling up his sleeve. He held the syringe over his forearm and his eyes clouded a bit when the needle sunk into his skin, but his grin never faded. Suddenly, a loud piercing siren burst through the house, making me fall to the ground. It was so loud.
My ears are be bleeding I thought, as I tried to block out the noise with my hands. But no matter how hard I tried, the sound didn’t get any quieter. I ran to the window and pressed my palm up against the glass. My dad was crouching there, his face in his wet hands. He was crying. His skin looked tinted yellow and when he looked up at me, I screamed.
I knew what this meant. My dad was sick. Broken. Beyond repair. I felt fresh tears stream down my own face as I watched guards with thick rubber royal blue suits on and heavy breathing masks carry him away. He didn’t fight them. I watched from the lonely window of my house as my dad left me forever.

SWOOSH. The door to my house opens and I stifle a scream. The door shouldn’t have opened. Where are the sirens? Where are the scary guards? The royal blue rubber suits? I must’ve broken the system. There has to be a malfunction. I am a danger to the society!
“Mom!” I scream at the top of my lungs, because I can think of nothing else to do, but instantly regretting it. I hear muffled footsteps over the sounds of my sobs as my mom comes into the doorway. She is wearing a loose blue bathrobe and her hair is flowing beautifully around her neck.
“Mom...” I moan, and she reaches out to me. I reach for her, but then recoil. I can’t get her sick. I fall to the ground, landing with a loud thud. “MOM!” I scream, but I don’t know why my voice got louder. “Mom, I have Annaria!” A look of terror and remembrance crosses her face before her face turns calm again. “Did you hear me, mom?” I keep repeating her name. She laughs slightly. How is this funny? But, before I can say anything, her smile fades and is replaced with a more serious expression. “The door would never have opened if you had the Annaria virus in your blood. It’s alright, dear. Come inside and you can tell me what happened.”
I want to believe her, I really do. But how can I risk giving her the disease? “No.” I say, standing up straight. I spit on the ground, the saliva dripping off of my chin. But, I must look like a complete and utter idiot to my mom and any other neighbor who happened to be watching because my spit was its translucent foamy self. This can’t be right. I am loss for words as my mom gently places her hands on my shoulders and leads me inside.
I unwillingly enter the house and infect the air with my breath. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. My feet pat the light brown carpeted floor and my eyes are clouded. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. The disease that stole so much from me already will now steal my life. I feel tears streaming down my cheeks as my mom guides me down the short but narrow hallway that leads to three bedrooms. One to the left, my brother Carter’s, one to the right, my parents’, and one straight ahead. Mine.
I keep my eyes focused on the white paneling of the door as my mom slowly opens it. My room appears before me. Nothing special. A bed with a navy blue blanket, a wooden desk, a black metal box with a hinged lid in the corner, sticking out from underneath my bed, and a massive white dresser with a grey lamp on it that gives my room a hazy glow. The walls are grey, and the carpet is a light brown.
We walk over to the bed and I lay down, my breathing starting to pick up from all of my crying. My mom strokes my cheek with a soft finger and hushes me in a gentle way. I push her hand away. She can’t touch me. “I kissed him, mom… I kissed him and he had Annaria.” Confusion flashes across my mother’s face and she draws back a bit. “He vomited everywhere. It was black and I—.” A sob roars through my body and I cough, interrupting my sentence. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. I have Annaria. My mom’s eyes flash with realization and she stands, leaving the room.

Now I did it. My own mother is afraid to be in the same freaking room as me because of this disease. I don’t blame her though.
Suddenly, she reappears in front of me, holding a white syringe. What is she doing?
“Hold out your arm, Katrina.” The authority and sincerity of her voice warns me not to question her. I reach out my arm. I can still see the pinhole from the needle I had taken a few minutes ago. She plunges the needle in and it stings a bit, but nothing compared to what she must be feeling. She has lost everything. And now I am leaving her, too. The syringe resurfaces, full of my crimson blood. What is she doing? Once again, without a word she leaves the room.
                        I wait.
                                      And wait.
And wait.
                                                                               This time, she doesn’t come back.

“Do you want to go on an adventure?” Carter’s head pokes into my room and I look up, startled. I quickly swipe away my tears and turn away from him. His smile fades as he sees that I’m crying. He slips into my room and shuts the door softly. Striding over to my bed, he smiles at me. He takes my hand in his.
Daddy died. Daddy died. Daddy died.
Carter takes me in his arms and hugs me close. And suddenly I can’t hold it in any longer. A sob roars out of me and I bury my face into his chest. Why did this have to happen to us?
“It’s not fair!” I scream into his shirt and he holds me tighter. Despite me being eleven, and having (hopefully) a long life ahead of me, I feel as if I were dead. I have no purpose. 
Daddy died. Daddy died. Daddy died.
I clench Carter’s now wet shirt in my fists and breathe in deeply, trying to stop my tears. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. My tears slow until they are gone.
We sit there, hugging. After a few minutes, he sits on the bed that is too big for my small frame and the springs squeak.
“Come on, Kat, you can’t hide in here forever.” But I can. I’ve spent the last four days in this room, who says I can’t spend the rest of my life in here either? God, I am hopeless. “Let’s go.” He stands from the bed and it rises slightly as his weight leaves. “Me and you are going to go explore. The city is vacated. What better time than now?” He pulls me from the bed and I land with a soft thump on the carpet. I smile up at him as he tiptoes through the door and into the hallway. He turns to me and puts a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet and I know why. Mom.
She hasn’t said a single word since dad’s death and hasn’t come out of her bedroom. She sleeps all hours of the day, coming out once or twice to use the bathroom. Work is off the radar for her and school has given me a break for “mourning” purposes. They have had to give those to a lot of people lately.
Carter opens her bedroom door, and sticks his head in. I hear him say, “Mom, Katrina and I are going out. Do you need anything?” I don’t know why he asked that. Since the outbreak of Annaria, the government has set up a food delivery system in which a machine provides trays of food for us every day. Nice idea, but the food is disgusting.
I hear her grunt in response and Carter shuts the door, a solemn look on his usually happy face. He shakes his head and takes my hand. “Come on, Kat. We need to get out of here.”
We left.

“Katrina!” My eyes snap open and I shoot up from my lying position. My mom stands next to my bed, her arms in her usual stance, crossed. Her face is in a sharp expression, which makes her beautiful face look too wrinkled and old. What is she doing? Light pours into my room through the grey blinds that hang on the window.
Then I remember.
Last night.
Party.
Kissing.
Vomit.
Black.
Annaria.
Annaria.
Annaria.
I lurch away from my mom, hitting my head hard on the wall. Ouch. I rub the back of my head with my hand trying to ease the now throbbing pain. My mom rolls her eyes at me sternly and I give her a nervous look.
How can she stand to be in the same room as me? Why is she risking her life? I’m infected.
“You said last night that you kissed Jonah Fischer?” She pauses as I nod, suddenly embarrassed of something I had wanted to do for months. “This morning he was confirmed dead of Annaria.” She looks down at the floor and I immediately know that something is wrong. “After a series of tests, studies told us where he got the virus.” She stops talking. Where? Where did he get the freaking disease?
“Katrina, he got it from you.”

Empty.
That is the first word that comes to mind as Carter and I roam the empty streets of Chicago, or of what remains of Chicago. After evacuation, cars were left unattended, trash was left to rot, and buildings were abandoned. Not a single human remains. The only sounds you can hear is the soft howl of wild dogs in the distance and the whisper of wind swirling through the lonely city. The rotten sweet smell of trash floods my nostrils every time we near a restaurant or store. The sky is an ocean of grey that seems to go on forever.
“This isn’t what I expected.” Says a wide eyed Carter and I nod. It isn’t what I expected either. “It’s a little...” he stops, and I finish his phrase, “Creepy.”He turns to me and nods in agreement. Taking my hand, Carter pulls me into a dark alley. A sense of fear floods my heart and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop it. Carter isn’t going to do anything to me.
Turning to face me, Carter places both of his hands on my shoulders and exhales loudly. Confusion replaces the fear and I glance around, unsure of what to do, unsure of what he is doing. I finally meet his gaze and his tropical blue eyes pierce into mine, full of tears.
“Carter? Are you okay?” he closes his eyes and his next laugh is full of sorrow and tears.  I gaze at him intently; trying to read his emotions, but nothing comes.
“Carter?” His eyes open and he stares at me. What is going on? He squeezes my shoulders gently and looks at me with so much trust and love it makes me want to cry too.
“Dad’s not dead.” He says and I gasp. What? He must be. Why would they lie to us? “Yes, he is sick with Annaria, but no, he isn’t dead. Yet.”  I stare back at him open mouthed. “Then where is he? I want to go see him! Is he here? In the city?” Carter squeezes my shoulders gain, as if trying to convince himself that I am real. He cracks a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yes, he is in the city, Kat. He is in a hospital. This hospital is where they put the worst of the worst. The ones that should’ve died, but didn’t. Annaria is in charge here and if you go barging in there like a little maniac who misses her daddy, it will take hold of you, too.” For some reason, his words sting in a way that only he can hurt me.
I look away with a hurt look on my face, and he lets go of me, rubbing his temples. Suddenly, mom’s face comes into my mind. Beautiful, but sorrow struck and I sigh, understanding. If mom knew about this, she would be at the hospital every day dad was still alive just to be with him, giving her life up in the process.
“Can I see him?” I ask again, already fully aware f what the answer will be. But, Carter surprises me. “Let’s go. I’ll show you the way.”

Running.
Running.
Running.
My breath is hot and fast as my feet pound the ground. I think about how just last night, by kissing a boy, I changed my life forever. It is dusk now, and the stars are starting to peek out from behind the sun’s blinding cloak. I am running. To where, I don’t know, but what I do know is that I needed to get out of there. I feel hot tears of confusion and fear and surprise and anger running down my face and I don’t try to stop them.
I sprint onward, passing by hundreds of plain, boring houses that will always hold the memory of this disease’s victory over mankind.
Katrina, he got it from you. My mom’s words echo in my mind and more tears flow out of me. How is that possible? This morning, after hearing her say that, I practically bled myself to death by the numerous amount of blood I drew myself to test for Annaria. They all denied the virus and told me I was clean. How could I have given him Annaria if I don’t even have the freaking disease?!
A tall and broad dark shadow appears on the ground in front of me and I look up, being caught by surprise by the skyscrapers that sit in front of me. Chicago. I haven’t been here since... since...
I drop to the ground and explode into a sobbing fit, my cries echoing through the empty city. I am drowning in my own tears. I can’t live like this any longer. I would rather die than live another day full of death. Suddenly, I hear laughter. Not rude, making fun laughter, but the joyful, heartwarming kind. I look up. Seeing a glimmer of light in the distance catches my attention and I squint through my tears to try and make it out more. I gasp, as realization hits me.
The hospital.

Death.
Death.
Death.
It reeks here. The living are everywhere, but there is no life to be found. I can see them. The sick, the healthy, the dead. They are everywhere. Nurses scurry around in royal blue rubber suits and masks. Some patients are lucky enough to lie on a cot, but most of them are sprawled on the ground, drowning in their sickness, so it is hard to tell them from the dead, who lie with them.
I pinch my nostrils closed, because the smell is unbearable. The rottenness of it is too much for me. Nothing is clean, and it doesn’t need to be. Everyone here will die, so what’s the point?
The odors of blood, vomit, urine, and rotting flesh hang in the still air and I do my best not to gag.
We sit on a grassy hill that stands above the dying hospital and Carter grasps my hand tightly, as if trying to ease the pain for the both of us. “Where is dad?” I ask him, through a light blur of tears. He sighs next to me and with raising his hand, points towards the right side of the hospital. I don’t see daddy though. My eyes swim around the area, but I can’t find him.
My eyes only see a dark skinned nurse,  pale woman who looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, and a scrawny, but tall man with dark hair who I can’t tell if he is alive or dead, because he doesn’t seem to be moving. I glance at Carter, who is staring a me, waiting for a reaction. I look back and forth from the hospital to my brother. Then it hits me. That man...
I gasp. “That can’t be him! He looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks!” I turn to Carter, my eyes filled with sorrow. He puts an arm around my and rubs my shoulder with comforting fingers. “I’m sorry, Kat. He hasn’t eaten in weeks. I don’t know what you were expecting to see. But this disease isn’t a field full of flowers. These men and woman should have died days ago, but for some reason they didn’t. I wouldn’t say dad has another day left.” Leaning over, I bury my face into Carter’s t-shirt, feeling the warmth radiating off him. He smells familiar and like home, even though I don’t have one anymore.
I wrap my arms around him and hold him tightly, vowing never to let the disease get him.
I didn’t hold on tight enough.

I stand up, ignoring the dizziness that sweeps over me when I do. I stumble through the city’s streets, my eyes fixed on the little speck of light. It stands out in the darkness, like a speck of scarlet blood on a white sheet.
When I reach the hill Carter and I sat on years ago, I collapse. I remember the way he held me closer than he did anyone else. He was my safe haven, my comfort, my best friend, and I let him go. I lie on the ground, staring up at the dark but twinkling sky, remembering the memories. My eyes fall closed and I lose myself to the oblivion of sleep.

“Carter?” I run through my small house, looking for my older brother, but he is nowhere to be found. I burst into his room, but finding nothing but his bed and his clothes. “Carter?!” I cross my arms and lean against the door frame, tapping my foot. Where could he be? Images of the lonely city of Chicago flash in my mind and I realize he might be there.
Slipping on a light jacket, I leave the small but functional house. I jog along the side of the paved road towards the city. From a distance, the buildings look so small, but nothing is what it seems to be now. I pick up the pace until I reach the edge of the city. I slow down; diving in, and calling out my brother’s name.
“Carter! Carter! Where are you?! Carter!” My voice explodes through the silence, bouncing off the glass walls of buildings. I wince as the sound of my voice is louder than it ever has been before. Where is my brother?
“Katrina?” I hear a hoarse voice whisper my name. It isn’t familiar at all. I stop walking and twirl around, looking for anyone who could’ve sad my name. I see an outline of a man in an alley near to me. I clench my fists, ready for a fight. “Katrina?!” The voice sounds almost scared now. Scared of me? Yeah right.
The man steps out into the clearing and I realize he isn’t a thug at all. In fact, it’s Carter! I start to run towards him, but I halt when I examine him further his eyes are sunken and his cheeks are shallow. His lips are outlined with black and his skin is tinted yellow. His hair is disheveled and his lips are purple and swollen. The smell of vomit reeks from behind him and when he spits on the ground, it is black. Black. 
I feel tears starting to run down my face as I realize what is happening. “Carter?” my voice is so quiet that I barely hear myself. He smiles at me, breaking my heart even more.
“Katrina.” His voice is thick with the disease and with sadness. “Katrina, I have--.” But I cut him off. I’m not going to sit around here and listen to him tell me he is dying. I already know.
“Stop! Just stop! How could you do this to me?! You can’t leave me! Please, Carter no!” I drop to my knees in a fit of sobs, realizing my best friend is leaving. This doesn’t seem real. Maybe this is just a dream. Maybe if I hurt myself, I will wake up.
Reaching for a sharp rock near me, I scratch at my arm, begging myself to wake up from this hell. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
My arm oozes blood and I close my eyes, waiting for the moment when Carter will dump water on my head, or shake my arm to get me out of my slumber, but when I open my eyes, he is still standing there, crying tears out of bloodshot eyes, watching me. Maybe I need more pain.
I grab the rock and slice my leg open, tearing the skin, and causing a trickle of warm blood to ooze down my calf. I cry out when it happens, and so does Carter.
“Stop it, Kat! You aren’t going to do yourself any good!” I look up at him, my eyes wide with fear. I shake my head. “Don't go, Carter. Please. Don’t leave me all alone.” My voice is calm now and I’m not screaming any longer. Soft tears run down my cheeks as I realize my words have little use. No matter how much I beg, or hurt myself, or cry, Carter has Annaria.
Carter has Annaria. Carter has Annaria. Carter has Annaria.
“Kat.” He says. “I need you to be strong. For me, for mom, for yourself. If you aren’t strong, you will lose yourself. I have Annaria. I am going to die. I’m so sorry I had to leave you like this, and I will try as hard as I can to fight it, I promise I will, but there is no cure. So far, no one on this planet has been immune, so we can’t even start to find a cure by using their blood!” he stops and rubs his temples in the most familiar way. “I’m sorry, but no matter how many times I say those words, I’m still sick. And if you don’t leave soon you will be too.” You don’t understand, Carter. I want to be sick now. Anything to be with you.
“Katrina, I love you more than the sun and the stars, and never would I choose to leave you. Please be strong. Take care of mom for me. I love you so so much. Never forget that.” He shakes his head and tears start to run down his face, making me cry also. “Be brave my little Kat. I love you. Goodbye.”
And with that, I stood up and ran, ignoring the pain in both my leg and arm, never stopping until I reached the house.

My eyes snap open and I am confused. Blinding whit lights pierce into my vision and the smell of bleach makes my eyes burn. I sit up in the hard bed, pushing off the scratchy cotton blankets. My first instincts tell me I’m in a hospital and I am confused. Why am I in a hospital? An IV tube comes out of my arm and is being pumped with clear liquid. I feel dizzy, so I automatically know they drew more blood.
A one sided window makes up a portion of the wall cross from me, making me feel imprisoned. On my side, it is a mirror, and when I glance at my reflection, I gasp.
I. Am. A. Mess.
My brown hair is tangled in a distortion of knots, and is sticking to my forehead. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy from the unusual amount of crying I had done yesterday. My cheeks are sunken in and I am unnaturally thin and pale. The thin hospital gown makes me look small and defenseless.
Suddenly, the door opens and in comes my mom. She is wearing a doctor’s outfit and she holds a clipboard. Her hair is pinned up in a bun and her eyes look sharp and ready. “Mom? What’s going on? Where am I?” She looks from her clipboard and gives me an annoyed look. She glances back down to her papers, ignoring me. After scribbling down something and flipping through papers, she finally gives me some information.
“Katrina, you are at the hospital, if you haven’t already figured that out. We took samples of your blood this morning and are trying to use it to create a cure for Annaria.” She looks at me with pursed lips, as if I need time for that to settle, which I do. I remember Carter’s words “So far, no one on this planet has been immune, so we can’t even start to find a cure by using their blood!”
Never in my mind had I ever imagined the cure coming from me. But, how do they know I am immune? As if reading my mind, my mom answers my question.
“We also found out that you are... immune... to Annaria.” I raise my eyebrows. She swallows, as if afraid to finish. “We injected the Annaria virus into your bloodstream this morning to see the effects, and so far you are completely fine.” I could vomit, I am so disgusted. My own mother infected me with a fatal disease? How could she do that without my permission? And how did I get here? Last night, I was at the hill.
She must see my shock because she puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Katrina, but we had to do what was necessary. And if that meant sacrificing my own daughter, then so be it.” Um, hello?! What if I don’t want to be sacrificed? I shake my head, mad.
“The results have been positive so far and we are going to use it on volunteered test subjects today as a vaccine.” Wait, do the test subjects have Annaria or not? “Vaccine? How do you know if it will work?” I ask, and she smiles to herself. “We don’t.”

Carter is dead. Carter is dead. Carter is dead.
I sob into my pillow as I think of him. Him laughing, holding my hand, hugging me. “My little Kat.” I remember him saying. I scream into my pillow knowing I will never be called that again. I will never see his smile or hear his laugh. I will never smell his scent that reminded me of home. I will never see Carter again. He was stolen from me by Annaria, and I will never get him back. Goodbye, Carter.

Anticipation.
It burns inside of me as I wait for the test results to come back. The vaccine has been made and I am waiting for the volunteers to come in so they can be injected with it. What if it doesn’t work? Hope burns in the back of my heart and I am nervous as the door to my “room” opens and three people file in.
Volunteer one: curvy woman. My mother’s age. Sorrow stains on her face are as plain as day and I wonder who she has lost to this disease. A husband, brother, son? Her hair is jet black and curls around her face.  She gazes at me intently.
Volunteer two: Tall dark skinned man. Muscles tone his arms and he has an angry expression on his face. Did he lose his wife? His daughter? I will never know. He glares at me, as if he is mad at me for trying to help. More like being forced to help, actually, but that doesn’t matter now.
Volunteer three: a small girl. Her light blonde hair is an ocean of waves down her back and her blue eyes are full of hope. She is wearing a pink dress and I feel my jaw drop. What is she doing here? She can’t be more than ten years old!
“Katrina, these are our three volunteer subjects. None of them currently have the disease, but are willing to try this vaccine. Are you ready?” She asks, and I stare ahead. An awkward silence fills the air and I turn towards them, to find they are all staring at me! “Oh! Yes! Yes, I am ready.” The woman scowls at me and the man rolls his eyes, but the little girl smiles hopefully. I like her.
My mom seems to take forever to fill each syringe and inject it into them. The little girl’s eyes fill with tears when the needle goes in, but even though I know it doesn't hurt much, she is the bravest ten year old I’ve ever met.
When my mom is finished, she tells them this, “We will get results tomorrow to see if the vaccine works.” She leads them out of the room and I wonder to myself. Why did I have to be there when she injected it? Why did they come in my room? I lie down on the bed and close my eyes, begging for this day to end.
Suddenly, I hear screaming. It is muffled through the walls of my room, but I know that sound when I hear it: fear. I bolt from the bed and run to the door, my hospital gown flying behind me like a cape. I twist the knob, and surprisingly, it opens!
Stepping out of my room, I realize I am in a hospital. White tile lines the floors in the long hallway, and I listen. The screaming has stopped. An eerie silence hangs over the air. Then I hear a woman yelling. My mom. I turn to the right and follow the sound. She sounds mad. Really mad, and also sad and disappointed. I burst through the wide doors that lead to the main area.
When I see it, I scream. I would never have been prepared for this. Not even if you warned me ahead of time.
Sprawled on the ground, in a mess of black vomit and blood, lies the little girl, the woman and the man. The three volunteers.
Dead.

I can’t get her out of my head. The way her eyes stared ahead so blankly I knew right away she was gone. But how did it happen so quickly? One minute they were getting a vaccine for Annaria, another, they are sprawled dead of it. After tests, their blood showed the disease was from me, but how can that be possible? I don’t even have the disease! Unless... well this sounds impossible, but...here goes nothing. What if my cells were the same Annaria cells? What if my blood has always been infected? What if I’m the reason for the outbreak of the disease? What if... What if I am the disease? 
The door burst open and in filed my stressed out looking mom, and two guards wearing blue rubber suits. What in the world?
“Katrina!” My mom shouts my name. Tears flood her eyes and I am so confused that my jaw drops. What I going on? “You knew all along didn’t you?! You knew that you had the same Annaria cells in your blood! You knew that you were the reason for all of this! You were the reason for the outbreak, the deaths, the destruction, the sorrow! You killed Carter! You killed your dad! You knew and you never told anyone?!”
Silence.
For a minute, I have to hold back laughter. Is she serious? She can’t be. She can’t honestly think that is true. But is it false? Her tears tell me otherwise. From her crouched and sobbing position, she holds up two slides. I can tell from here they show cell types and samples. She throws them at me, and I catch them with trembling fingers.
I recognize the cell picture in my right hand as Annaria. The virus that took everything from me. the epidemic that wiped out a majority of the planet. I turn away from it and stare at the other slide in my left hand.
They are identical. The only thing different about the slides ids my name scrawled at the corner of one. My jaw drops.
I.
Am.
Annaria.
The disease that killed my city, my brother, my father, and now... me. The disease that I have loathed and hated for so many years has become me. Has always been me. Oh my God.
I stand from the bed and make my way slowly towards the door. I side step past my sobbing mother, who is crouched on the floor. I walk up to the guards and look them both in the eyes. I nod, they nod back.
Please let me go. Please let me go. Please let me go.
I open the door and they watch me leave, never breaking our locked gazes until the door clicks shut.
I run.

I am here.
Chicago. My new safe haven, my new home. The tall buildings comfort me and remind me to be strong. Just like Carter did.
I search for it. The tallest building. The strongest building. The most reliable. I find it.
Shouts screams and voices follow me into the city and I realize they are chasing me. They have come to make sure I do what I do. It needs to be done.
I go inside the building and start to climb the stairs.  They seem to go on forever. Never ending, just like this life. But not for long. I clutch the cold metal railing the entire time I climb, to make sure I don’t fall. It keeps me steady.
The roof. I have reached it. I open the door and am overcome with a sensation that only can be described as fear. What am I doing? Wind whips my hair around and coldness seeps into my skin.
I am Annaria. I am Annaria. I am Annaria.

I scream. I scream. I scream. It hurts my throat but warms my soul. How long I have kept that scream in for, I have no clue, but nothing has ever felt better.
I think of all the people I am doing this for. Every person alive. The world. I am saving the world.
I walk to the edge of the building and look down. Cars line the street, freshly abandoned by the people who are in the building, chasing me. I look up. I could touch the sky if I wanted to, am so close. The stars are at my fingertips, but for once, I let them go.
The door behind me bursts open and I turn around to meet whoever it is came up. My mom. She slams the door behind her and looks at me with eyes that are so full of understanding, I want to go over and hug her, to tell her everything is going to be alright. But, if I don’t do this, it won’t be. I nod. She nods back.
I turn back around. Facing the city. I can feel her gaze on me and I wish she wouldn’t watch, but she does.

I imagine what the world will be when am gone. Will it get better? Will it get worse? Am I doing the right thing? Or will my sacrifice be for nothing. I bite the indie of my cheek to hold back the prickling tears that have nestled at the corners of my eyes.
I close my eyes. I picture me and Carter laughing, hugging, smiling. I picture my mom and me hugging, her kissing my cheek, my forehead. My dad, twirling me in his arms and singing me to sleep. In my last moments, I think of love, because without it, we are nothing. Be brave my little Kat Carter had told me. I hope this is brave enough to make up for all the deaths that have already happened because of me. Bravery. Such a simple word, but so much power behind it. Bravery.
I stretch my arms out, welcoming whatever comes next.
I lean forward.
I fall.
Everything goes dark.