I am a Nobody

Well, if you are reading this, then I am definitely what I say I am, a nobody.

I stand on the street with a half-lit cigarette pressed against my teeth, waiting on a bus to take me to the dead-end job that I hate, only making enough money to pay the rent for my cardboard box of an apartment. I might as well move into an actual cardboard box; that way, I can be more invisible as you pass me on the street like another piece of trash.

As I stand here today, I notice I feel different. I want a change. I want to be a Somebody. At what? I am not entirely sure of that yet, either. I could be the next top model on the advertisement billboards, have my image spread across all of New York City (before it was taken over), be the next Madonna, or hell, maybe I could be Lemony Snicket. It is all dreams, of course, that life is now long gone. I prefer being more of a Biny Luxembourg, and I, too, want to lead an entire rebellion against anyone who stands in my way, blood or no blood. Hopefully, blood, though, does stain my nails a nice red. All while my hair flows in the wind, what a powerful woman she is.

If you are still reading this, I am sure you are no better than I am and want to figure out how to be a Somebody. I could tell you everything you should NOT do, but that is no fun; it takes away my chances of beating you to the top of the matrix.

I can finally hear the bus struggle itself up the hill. I laugh at myself. I could be riding in the back of a limousine and be pretty and rich, but instead, I have to board a bus that smells like cat piss and is full of other degenerates who are also going forcibly to their dead-end job. It would probably just be easier for the Mayor of the Eastern United States to give up and hand us all over to the Warlords.

Instead, he takes half of all of the Nobody's paychecks and gives to the Warlords to uphold the peace treaty, and I say peace treaty lightly; it is just more of a ransom. The People of the Eastern United States all voted for this to happen, keep what infinitely small dignity we have as humans, and pretend for things to be normal. On the other hand, I would not mind putting my life on the line, even feeling a second of freedom again. I miss it. Being a Nobody in the past was excellent; I could do what I wanted without the spotlight and have dreams that could become a reality.

The bus comes to a complete stop and opens its doors. I put out my cigarette and slowly climbed up the steps. The bus is normally packed to the brim, but today it is empty besides a man dressed in all white in the back row of seats, which is my designated area.

I take a second before locking my eyes with him. Maybe I am just hallucinating. I take a deep breath in and give myself a pinch to make sure I am awake. The man in the back stands up and slowly walks up the aisle to me. He is tall, maybe 6 foot 8, bronze skin that looks so smooth, eyes as blue as the sky, and a jaw so tight it could open up a can. The bus driver seems oblivious to the whole situation and shuts the doors and pressed the gas.

The man is now about two feet away from me, and I can feel my heart pounding; I am not sure why I feel so nervous. He stops. Locks eyes with me and says coldly with no emotion, "We detected a change in the Ionic Cloud Database. You are the reason for the change. Tread wisely, Alena Jacks, or the next time we meet, it will not be so cordial." He pushes past me and orders the bus driver to let him off immediately. I can hear him recede down the steps with grace in each step. "Oh, Alena, if you do decide you want to become a Somebody, I suggest wearing better clothes from now on; you look poor."

I quickly turn, and he is not there. I bolt to the front of the bus to chase after him. I need to know who he is. The bus driver swiftly sticks his arm out to stop me, and in his hand, he holds a shiny gold card. "Take it, now." He muffles quietly.

I grab the card from him. It is heavy. Just from the weight, I can tell it is absolute gold. It has an engraving.

"You should be more careful with your thoughts and don't make any more friends." Signed Biny Luxembourg. I gasp at the signature. There is no way this is real. She was killed years ago by the Warlords.

There are so many thoughts going on in my head on what in the sam hell just happened. I chuckle; maybe being a nobody isn't so bad after all. I turn around and head to my seat. I feel very fatigued like I just ran a marathon. I let my eyes close, drift off to sleep, and my thoughts run wild.