Even though my arm was still broken and I had a slight headache, the hospital released me because they needed room for more patients.
I am now standing in the "Safe Zone" courtyard. The moon light reflected off the bubbling fountain I was standing beside. I gradually lowered myself on to it's edge. The faint breeze wrapped around me, caressing my right arm, which hung in a cast. As it left, a few leaves rustled and fell gently to the concrete below it.
Nobody was walking around the courtyard, possibly because it was 12 P.M., but the more obvious reason is because the majority of people were inside the hospital, being treated for their almost fatal wounds. Before I left, it seemed that the doctors were running from room to room, and often I caught them talking about the lack of donors. I grimaced as I thought that I probably hadn't helped, considering how many organs I had needed replaced.
And that thought led to the night where I (almost) died. I cringed thinking about it.
The horrible thing is that Will dying that same night didn't make it that awful. And my recent discovery about my family being dead didn't sway me much.
As appalling as it sounds, it was strangely somewhat relieving. I looked at it this way, with the recent deaths, instead of carrying something that would remind me of my ghastly recent past, it made everything easier. Because I now knew that I could start over.
Everything would be different.
Someone yelling in the distance startled me. I quickly turned to see a man with thick rimmed glasses and a white coat running towards me. When he reached me, he was breathless. "I-I'm sorry." He gasped in air. "This is for you." He tucked the paper in between my thumb and my index finger. "You are to arrive at this address tomorrow at 9:30 A.M. The vehicle will transport you to the next safe city for healthy and recovering citizens." He nodded at me and jogged back to the hospital, which contained blinding lights compared to the courtyard.
I flipped the piece of paper over in my hands. On the other side of the paper read, "Alice Burg, Tent 647".
I picked up my bag - which contained 3 different outfits, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a towel, and a hairbrush - and left the courtyard in search of my temporary living quarters.
