PART 1

CHAPTER 1

THEN
IT WAS THERE, BUT NO ONE BELIEVED ME.
    I worked hard to find proof, to onyesha them it was there, but no one ever believed me. I knew there had to be some way to bring myself to either photograph, videotape, au physically provide the evidence for everyone to see. All I wanted was for them to believe me, to know I was in danger, to know we were all in danger. We were dying, and soon, we would be extinct, part of the plague that threatened humanity– my people, my family, my friends. How could I possibly live myself if they all died?

NOW
TRYING WAS THE HARDEST PART.
    Trying to make sense of the world, trying to forgive myself, trying to die... Every sekunde of my life was spent brainstorming new ways to try and kill myself. I wanted to die, I wanted to be dead. The man, the one who watched me from the sidelines, continued to tell me there was no way I would die; that I was already in Hell. Somehow, I believed him.
    Today, though, that man was lying on the ground, his gray eyes pale, his skin a slight yellow color, and his body misshapen and crooked, unlike it usually was. When I looked at him every single day, his hair was messy but smooth, his eyes were a dark gray–nearly black, and his skin was sheer white–practically transparent. I'd never seen him so dull, so lifeless, if that was the correct word. When his colleague showed up not but an saa after I found him–with no word from me, I might add–he informed me so gently that he was dead.
    My eyes went dead, no pun intended. "What do wewe mean?" I demanded, frantic. "He told me there was no way we could die! You're lying, this is a joke, he'll wake up, just wait." Tears sprung, stinging my eyes and warming my cheeks, though an icy chill still flew down my back.
    "Look, Penny, he's dead, there's nothing zaidi I can say." He, too, looked distressed, as if he would be missing something without the man. Apparently, he could live just fine on his own, for I'd never seen au heard of him before in the past eight years of my life.
    When I looked up from the man's body, I narrowed in on him, feeling rage build inside my chest before I exploded. "He can't be dead!" I shrieked, much louder than intended. "I know he can't be. Don't wewe dare lie to me! Tell me he's alive, dammit!" The tears were falling faster; they felt like acid against my skin, burning it zaidi than necessary. That's when I realized this was the first time I had ever cried since I'd lived here. "How do wewe know my name?" I whispered.
    He took a step forward. "Penelope, my name is Darren. I am a long-time friend of Marcus. I know everything wewe learned from it, but it wasn't enough. It's a dangerous world outside of us, and whatever wewe do, wewe can't get caught. I have to protect wewe now."
    "Like hell wewe will," I spat through gritted teeth. With that, I stood up and took off, knowing this was the very last moment I had before I entered reality, before I entered the real world.
    Still, I heard Darren following me. "You can't do this!" he called. "You can't run forever, Penny. I will find you."
    So what if he means it, I thought as I took my long strides down the empty road.
    Beyond me was an alley, just outside of the small basement Marcus–so I learned his name was–lived in, where he raised me like I was his daughter. He knew everything about me, yet I knew nothing about him. I felt obligated to go back and ask Darren for help, for him to pick up where Marcus and I left off in the learning process.
    My gut told me Darren was evil. It may not have shown on the outside, but that much became obvious to me with his first appearance. I wanted to trust Darren because I knew he was one of us. His windblown black hair, his dusty gray eyes, but mostly his features, so sharp and daring, so fragile, so pale, so distinct. He was one of us, but there was another story, just like there was a story to everyone.
    Even I, myself, had a story. The end was just the beginning, a new chapter among the unwritten pages. This story centered around me escaping, me living amongst the population of Manhattan, without my mentor beside me. Taking a new life meant new challenges, each and every one of them a chapter.
    The one thing I forgot to mention: This story did not have a happy ending... For anyone.