Ash-Covered Morning

I'm sore. My body aches. I struggle to open my eyes, and clumsily get to my feet. Where am I? The smell of burning metal and wood wafts into my nose, and with horror, I remember the fire. I look down to examine my body. My clothes are ripped! My jewelry is gone! And where are my rubber gloves?

I see a man bathed in soot. I open my mouth to cry for help, but my mouth is dry and caked with ash. I slowly stumble over to where he's lying, and collapse on his shoulder.

"Help me..." I manage to croak feebly.

The man pushes me off and mutter something about trash bags as he drags himself away from me. What is happening? Where am I? I need Madame Mystic!

I collect my whits and think about what I need most: a bath, sanitizer, bleach, and a long therapy session with Madame Mysitc. I need to get back to my room at the Heights. Gathering as much energy as I can muster, I walk as quickly as I can, ignoring the aches and bruises on my body. So many germs! I count each step and make sure not to touch anything as I walk, not even myself. I cannot afford to get any dirtier.

I see Watershed Heights! I'm almost home! I wait thirty-three seconds before propelling forward toward the refreshingly cool lobby of my pathetic excuse for a home. I reach the front door and... Oh dear! I can't open the door! I refuse to place my bare hands on the germ-infested, sticky, never-been-cleaned door handle. I stand outside, waiting desperately for someone to show up to open the door for me.

I see two men dressed in robbery-gear carrying an ATM machine sprint to the alley behind Foo Food, the vile restaurant the sells non-descript food. Maybe they'll open the door for me! I give a quick prayer to the Heavens, and, after spitting as much soot out of my mouth as I can, I give a quick yelp for help. One of the robbers turns around, sees my desperate situation, and comes to my rescue.

"May I get the door for you, ma'am?"

I smile, nod, and graciously step through the door, held open by a hero disguised as a villian.