Auren

I’ve never felt like a hero. Heroes are people who set out for greatness; people who are larger than life. people with ambition and dreams of greatness. They give all they’ve got trying to conquer and succeed. I’ve never wanted greatness. I just wanted my life. I did what I had to. I took one step forward and then another until I arrived where I am. Stuck somewhere between worlds. Someplace I never wanted to be. People always say I don’t know how you got through it- well the truth is I didn’t have a choice. Time keeps going, whether you like it or not- whether you’re ready or not. And you either find your stride and you summon your strength and your courage or whatever it is that makes you move, and you march along in time; or you get dragged along kicking and screaming or barely conscious at all; either way, as long as you’re still breathing, you’re along for the ride. Time marches on and it doesn’t stop, and it doesn’t care who you are. Time does all the work. All I did was keep ahead of time. All I did was survive.

--------------------

Auren Sloane slowly opened her clear green eyes as sunlight streamed in the window through the clean white wooden slats of her blinds. The sunlight fell in harsh morning lines making a perfect pattern across her face. She sighed a moment and reluctantly pushed herself up, twisting and stretching the heaviness of slumber off. She automatically reached for items on her bedside table- her phone, her pills and her water bottle. Her phone was on vibrate and started to buzz as soon as she grabbed it. Auren was typically an early riser- she liked the peace and stillness of dawn. Everything was quiet, refreshed and renewed; almost like anything could happen. Auren knew though nothing would. Her life was the same, predictable routine it had been since she turned 16 two years ago.

Auren popped the top of her orange pill case open, tapped out a pill and placed it on her tongue. She swallowed it with a sip of water from her plain white plastic cup, a routine she did without a second thought. Like the rest of the survivors, Auren had been taking these pills for almost as long as she could remember, and it was second nature to take one first thing every morning.

She put her cup and the small pill bottle neatly back on her nightstand and adjusted the straps on her regular summer nighttime garb; plain white linen pajama pants with a bamboo cord tie and a white tank top. This was pretty much standard wear for everyone in the PODs; the same basic clothing was mass manufactured here in the district and everyone looked relatively the same.

Auren stood and stretched again, lazily combing her fingers through her long auburn hair. Mushu her cat meowed at the feet and brushed up against her, arching his black and white back and rubbing in circles the way her did when breakfast was running late.

“Hey kitty,” she crooned softly, scratching her cat behind the ears. Her own stomach growled loudly and she laughed and continued talking to her cat in a soft rhythmic voice. She thought her voice was deep for a girl, though her friend Sam called it “husky” and said it drove all the male students in her class crazy. Auren systematically rolled her eyes at this thought every time Sam mentioned it, but deep down hoped there was some truth to it.

“I get it-it’s breakfast time. Hold on, let me get dressed and we’ll get some food for both of us”

Auren opened the door to her small closet and selected a pair of pale pink scrubs from the carefully hung selection. She changed quickly from her night clothes, folding them neatly onto a chair. She headed into the bathroom to finish getting ready, brushing out her thick auburn hair and twisting it methodically into a braid that fell in front of her shoulder. She brushed her teeth and washed her face with the simple white toiletry soap manufactured of course at the plant in the industrial district. It was odorless and plain, like many of the mass-produced district items, and Auren greatly preferred the flowery goats-milk soap that was sometimes shipped from the agricultural district. These shipments were technically considered contraband, but her neighbor Sam apparently had his ways of getting them. Auren tried not to think about it, but graciously accepted the gift when it was given. She reminded herself to ask Sam if there was another shipment coming next time she saw him.

Makeup was still a commodity, but again supplies were basic and limited. The government run plants tried to provide simple luxuries for the population, but the mass production of choice of the bygone era had faded into distant memory. She dotted on the basics: bronzer that made her freckles pop, shimmery nude eyeshadow that complimented the golden specks in her green eyes, and a sweep of mascara to frame them, and a flesh-toned gloss on her lips.

After tidying the bathroom, Auren walked briskly down the stairs of her two-story single room apartment in the POD where she lived. The upstairs bedroom was a loft area that overlooked the small kitchen and living space with a bathroom tucked neatly in a corner. Bright daylight illuminated the living area, while at night light from the clean white solar powered fixtures filled the space. White walls met light oak floors. White tiled counters framed white appliances. Even the furnishings were cream colored. Everything in the PODs was clean and light, alluding to more of a sterile hospital feel than cozy home, yet Auren had come to enjoy her minimalist life. She had just enough of everything to feel satisfied, nothing more, nothing less. One cup. One bowl. One set of silverware. One set of sheets. Life had been broken down to as simple as it could be.

Auren yawned, lazily eyeing the basic rations of food in her neatly organized pantry. She selected a box of corn flakes, grabbed her bowl and spoon from the cupboard and poured herself a generous bowl. In her fridge she found the plain glass jar of milk and added a modest amount to her cereal. Milk, along with fresh produce, eggs, meat, and cheese, came from the neighboring agriculture district, and she was used to using these items with care. She poured a cup of cold coffee from the carafe in the fridge, added another splash of milk. Cleaning behind her as she went, she sat down at the high-top island counter that served as her table. She scooped a spoon of sugar, sprinkling half into her cereal and the rest into her coffee.

Auren ate her breakfast absentmindedly, rereading the sides of her cereal box. Since the virus, everything had become streamlined, the packaging simple and plain. The free market had naturally been phased out as the adult members of society died by the masses, their businesses and stores shut and boarded up like ghost towns. Auren remembered the panic and chaos of the mass shutdowns; the hording of supplies, the anxiety of not knowing. She remembered the rioting in the streets, the fires, the sounds of breaking glass and sirens, her mother holding her close to her chest. Her mother, damp with sweat and burning with fever, the rash creeping up her arms and legs, spreading towards her heart. Her mother holding her close and singing softly to drown out the noise.

Then- it was quiet.

The chaos subsided as the virus took it’s hold.

And Auren’s life stood still. Absolutely still.

Auren remembered her own family now. She pictured them clearly, closing her eyes, concentrating deeply on the details. Her older brother Austin. Tall and lanky, with freckles spotting his pale cheeks. Short auburn hair, the same color as Auren’s. She heard his laughter echo in her mind, teasing her, shouting her name, “Ren!” Her mother, calm and patient, she was as close to a saint as Auren could imagine. Her bright green eyes just a shade darker the Auren’s, and her hair as well, falling in dark loose waves on her shoulders. Her father, taller than Austin, firm and yet kind. He worked for the local government and was often busy, his thoughtful brown eyes rimmed with lines- the kind of lines one gets from the burden of knowing things. She kept her eyes closed a moment longer, as if she could print the portrait of them into her memory, but the vision broke away in whisps, vanishing to the corners of her mind.

Opening her eyes, Auren was face to face once again with reality- the stark whiteness of her empty home and the deafening silence that filled it.

Finishing her last mouthful of cereal, Auren stood, rinsed her bowl and spoon and placed them to dry in the dish drain next to her small sink.

She reached up and pulled on the heart-shaped locket she wore around her neck. It was heavy and bronze, etched with roses. Her father had given it to her the day before the relocation teams had come for the children, and it was the only thing she had left from her former life.

The team took Auren, along with the hundreds of orphaned children in her area were sent to live in massive boarding-school-like homes where they lived and attended school. At 16, the children aged out of the program and were assigned a single-person apartment in the POD district- (Personal Observation Dwellings) In the beginning of the virus, this area was used for isolating and quarantining the sick. Unfortunately, it was soon discovered that once infected, quarantined individuals had no chance of recovery, and the PODs became more of a morgue than a hospital. There was still a section set aside in case of a resurgence, but as there hadn’t been a single active case of the Virus in 8 years, it made more sense to convert the PODs into living spaces to accommodate the new generation. Auren’s class was the first to age out of the system, and she had been living in her POD-converted-apartment for two years.

After graduating to the PODs, each person was assigned a duty based on their personal aptitude test and request form. It wasn’t meant to be a cruel system, just efficient, and personal choice was factored highly into the system. Auren was assigned to the medic unit which suited her just fine. She wasn’t squeamish at all around blood or injuries, and the fast-paced environment kept her mind and body busy- a welcome distraction from her single life with her cat. If there’s one thing that Auren hated, it was being still.

She realized she was still holding onto her locket as she glanced at the clock- all this daydreaming was putting her uncharacteristically behind schedule. Her usually clear mind felt foggy and stretched thin- the feeling you get when trying to hold onto a memory slowly slipping away or remember a dream you couldn’t quite see. She couldn’t recall what brought on this sudden wave of thought and tried to shake her head clear. That was all a long time ago, and she preferred to live in the moment. Tucking her locket back under her scrubs she began to think of something she hadn’t before- the future. Maybe there was more to this life of simplicity. Maybe there was something else out there destined to be hers. She shook her head again and tried to focus on what was before her- reality. The only thing that mattered was here and now- and right now, she was late for work.