In this thing alone

I’m an auditorium with no one in the seats

I’m the speaker on the stage with no one to listen

No one there to hear what i have to say

No one there to care

But then again… why should they

Why should they have to sit in those empty seats

Just to get to know me

Sure i got a crew but that shit don’t matter to you

No one cares what i’m going through

All that matters to them is the scoop

The news, the gossip

I’m in this thing alone like i always have been

But maybe i need some one to chime in and maybe i need someone to step in line and ask me whats going on

Are you ok

Is everything alright

Maybe i need someone to fill in the seats in my empty auditorium maybe I need to know i'm not alone. Maybe I need someone to speak up and help me. Maybe I need someone to understand.

To understand me understand the things i’m going through

I feel like a fish drowning in water

Drowning in sorrow and regret

No one to save me

Or grab me out this miserable sea of tears

I’ll just keep drifting and drifting until i  drift so far away

i completely vanish from existence

But maybe i want to vanish

Maybe its the best thing to do

Like and comment!

Thanks for reading! <3

You are cordially invited to attend school at theAlgul Academy...

Calla still remembered the letter she'd gotten that had started this whole mess. She'd been almost awestruck when she'd seen it. And Calla had been dumb enough to accept. Still, things had been working out surprisingly well; she'd been so good at hiding what she was. But now, one little slip-up was going to ruin it all.

She tried to remain calm; no one had seen her, no one knew what she'd done. All she had to do was get through the rest of the day. Then she could go home and pretend it never happened.

School was almost over. She had ten minutes left until her final period when one of the counselors came into the room and pulled her teacher aside. They chatted quietly at the door. Calla tried to eavesdrop, but she was too far away to tell what they were saying.

Did they know what she'd done?

Everyone around her was looking worried. Calla put on a concerned face of her own and turned to the seat next to her – where Nisha sat.

"What's going on?" Calla whispered.

Nisha looked at her blankly. "Didn't you hear?"

Calla shook her head. "I wasn't paying attention." she lied.

"They found something in the library. Something bad."

"What?"Calla's eyes went wide. She tried to parlay her concerned expression into one of confusion; it might not have been because of her. "What did they find?"

"No idea. Some kind of weapon or something." Nisha told her. Calla just stared at her wide-eyed, trying to figure out what to say to that.

"All right, everyone. Settle down." Mr. Villalobos said, turning back to face the class.

The whispers quieted down to about half of what they were.

"Class, now."he said again, snarling slightly.

The class fell deathly silent, as if half the students had stopped even breathing.

"As I was saying," he continued. "There's been a change in plans for the remainder of the day. Instead of last period, there will be mandatory class meetings. Freshmen will go to the gym, sophomores to the cafeteria, juniors to the library, and seniors to the courtyard. No exceptions."

After that announcement, there was no settling the class down again. Calla slumped in her chair, wishing she was invisible.

"What happened?" someone called out.

"What'd they find?" someone else wanted to know.

"Who did it?"

"Are they going to get in trouble?"

"Suspended?"

"Expelled?"

"Nothing's been decided yet." the teacher told them. "Go to the meeting, and everything will be explained there."

When the bell rang, Calla numbly followed the rest of her classmates out to the library. She wondered if she could make a run for it. But if anyone saw her, it'd all be over; they'd know for sure that she'd done it. And she seriously doubted she'd be able to outrun everyone.Her only saving grace at the moment was that about half the kids seemed as nervous as she was. At least it meant she didn't stand out.

"Don't worry." Nisha told her. "It's probably nothing – just some stupid senior prank."

Calla nodded, knowing that was almost definitely not true.

Her math class hadn't been far from the library, so they were some of the first students to get there. She and Nisha grabbed chairs at a table in the back. A couple minutes later, they were joined by the rest of their lunch group: Keeran, Selene, and Hunter.

"What do you think they found?" Keeran asked, looking worriedly around the table.

"Something bad enough to basically lock down the school." Hunter said.

"I heard it was a steak."Selene told him quietly.

"A wooden stake?" Calla asked, confused. Could someone have really brought something like that to school?

"No, like a sirloin." Selene answered. Calla couldn't tell if she was being serious or not.

"Why would they care if someone brought a sirloin to school?" Hunter scoffed.

"Maybe it's symbolic or something." Selene shrugged.

Calla was fairly sure she heard Hunter mutter something under his breath about Selene's intelligence. But when she saw him jump, she knew for certain that Selene had kicked him under the table.

Hunter curled his lip slightly, but before he could say anything, Ms. Blackwood cleared her throat. With her long charcoal dress and an almost supernatural grace, she glided up to a space near the checkout desk and paused, ready to address the group. A hush fell over the room.

"As I'm sure you've all heard, we had an incident in the library earlier today." she said.

The students all shifted uncomfortably, looking around the room. It was as if whatever had happened would still be visible and one of them might be sitting on the evidenceright now.Calla just stared down at the table, refusing to look at any of the other students.

So, it was true. This was all her fault. She was too busy kicking herself to listen to what Ms. Blackwood was saying, but she didn't need to hear it to know exactly what they'd found. How couldshe have been so stupid? What were they going to do to her now?

She sat there, alternating between mentally kicking herself and trying to figure out an escape plan. She'd long given up listening to the teacher. But Ms. Blackwood's final words tore through Calla's head: "Someone at this school doesn't belong."

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Calla's head jerked up from the table at Ms. Blackwood's statement. She looked around wide-eyed at the other students. Part of her did it to gauge their reactions. Another, more desperate part of her, did it because she did notwant to be the only one in the room not looking for the culprit. As she glanced vaguely around the library, her gaze fell on the chair just to her left. Nisha was sitting there, trying to catch her eye.

"Who would do something like that?" Nisha asked.

"No idea." Keeran replied. Calla thought she saw him scoot his chair just slightly away from Selene and Hunter, eyes narrowing as he did. Great. Was her mistake about to cause a school-wide incident?

It was just a sandwich!

She wanted to scream – maybe explain. But she didn't think anything she could say would convince them she wasn't some depraved monster.

It had taken her almost no time at all to realize that this wasn't a normal school; it was a school that seemed to cater almost exclusively to vampires. But they'd been trying to open the school up a bit – to diversify the student body. And they'd done that by inviting a number of werewolves from the neighboring town. It was sort of an exchange program, apparently. And Calla had been caught up in the list of invitees.

It was just too bad that Calla was human.

Still, once she'd realized where she was, she'd decided to make the most of it. She wasn't about to admit to a school full of monsters that she wasn't one of them, and she thought she could pass. Her first decision was whether she'd pretend to be a werewolf or a vampire. She decided on vampire – she didn't know how to change into a wolf, or how often they did it, or anything like that. So vampire actually seemed like the less dramatic option. The only problem with that plan was that it ruined lunch period for her; the only students at the school who ate lunch were the handful of werewolves. Calla solved this problem by sneaking off to the library and stuffing her homemade lunch into her face as fast as possible before hurrying out to the courtyard to meet up with her more magical friends.

This afternoon had been just like any other. She'd rushed to her favorite study corner in the library. After making sure she was alone, she slipped the sandwich her mom had made out of her bag and bit into it, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly. It was usually both the most rewarding part of her day and the most nerve-wracking. But today she was starving, and her sandwich tasted like heaven.

Roast beef on toasted rye bread. Her mom always made the best lunches. And today, she'd gone all out – crisp lettuce, thick tomato slices, and a big helping of her favorite garlic mayonnaise.

She was halfway through her lunch when it dawned on her that she was eating garlic mayonnaise.She couldn't have that here! What was she thinking?

She choked down the bite that was already in her mouth, wrapped up the rest of her sandwich, and quickly threw it in the trash. She hurried out of the library and into the bathroom. She rinsed her mouth out with soap as best she could. It tasted pretty gross, sure. But she couldn't afford to actually smell like garlic while going to a vampire high school. Once she was reasonably sure she was in the clear, she left the bathroom and went to join up with her friends for the rest of the period.

She sat down as casually as she could at a table under the canopy-covered courtyard. No one said anything about her smelling like garlic, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand rushed automatically to her mouth when she realized what she'd done. She'd sighed.With potential garlic breath. She saw Selene looking at her sideways, but she tried to stay calm.

"Everything ok?" Selene asked. Calla swallowed, trying to steady herself before she answered.

"Yeah, fine." Calla grinned, taking a deep breath through her nose as she forced her heart to slow down. She wasn't sure if Nisha and Keeran could hear her heartbeat. Just how sensitive were vampires to that kind of thing?she wondered. Too bad she couldn't exactly ask.

"You sure?"

"Just... worried about Mr. Villalobos's test." Calla mumbled.

She really didhave a math test coming up later. But honestly, she wasn't all that worried about it. Still, it was the best excuse she could come up with off the top of her head.

"Don't be – I heard it's really easy." Nisha shrugged.

"Is it?" Calla asked idly.

Hunter nodded.

"Well, that's good." Calla murmured.

No one else said anything to her, and she figured she was in the clear. She was even pretty sure she did alright on that math test. But halfway through fifth period, everything changed. And now that she was stuck in the library with a bunch of edgy vampires and anxious werewolves, she really wasn't sure what she was supposed to do.

"Well, we know it wasn't one of us."Nisha was saying, glaring coldly at Selene. "That means it had to be one of you."

"You've got to be joking." Selene scoffed. "It was a ryesandwich."

"Yeah? Just goes to show that werewolves eat all kinds of disgusting things."

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'The werewolf sits amid the rye'?"Selene snapped.

"Never." Nisha glowered.

"Rye affectsus." Selene told her. "Makes us change."

"So... you're saying that no werewolves would have eaten that?" Calla asked. And here she'd thought that the biggest problem she had was the garlic; this just got worse and worse.

"Not unless they wanted to change in the middle of class." Hunter grumbled.

The table fell silent as everyone considered what that meant. Calla wanted to ask if there was still a chance that it could have been one of the werewolves, but she didn't want to bring any attention to herself by opening her mouth. Besides, if one of the werewolves hadstarted changing in the middle of class, they wouldn't have gathered all the students up to figure out who'd done it. No, she knew it was her sandwich that had the school in an uproar – what were the odds that a werewolf was as careless as her on the very same day?

Calla put her head in her hands and sighed. At least she was pretty sure no one suspected her. Now all she had to do was wait until school was out – they'd have to let her go home then, right? And she would never, ever, evercome back here.

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The bell rang, signaling the end of final period. Calla looked around hopefully, but no one left their seats. The teachers were still huddled together, mumbling amongst themselves.

Did this mean they weren't going to be allowed to leave?

Calla looked around the table, wondering what her friends would think once they found out what she reallywas. Nisha and Hunter were arguing quietly, and Keeran was glancing around the room, looking bored. His fangs were showing, and he was pushing his tongue into one absentmindedly. Calla tried not to stare.

When she turned to Selene, she saw she was staring right at her, head tilted slightly to the side.

"You ok?" she whispered.

Calla nodded before mumbling, "My mom's going to kill me."

"For being late?"

Calla nodded again.

"Just tell her we got held in class."

"For a sandwich?"Calla asked. Hersandwich? How would she ever explain that to her mom? Besides, if her mom ever found out about the kinds of people her only daughter went to school with, she'd be horrified.

Selene didn't say anything for a minute. She looked like she was having some kind of internal debate with herself. Finally, she stood up.

"Come with me." she told Calla.

Calla didn't move. Under the circumstances, she didn't think she should go anywhere with a werewolf – friend or not.

"Seriously? Come on." Selene said, giving a prodding motion with her chin.

Calla stood. The rest of the table turned to watch.

"Where are you going?" Nisha asked.

"Bathroom." Selene said.

"They're not going to let you." Hunter told her.

"Oh, yes they will. Watch." Selene said before grabbing Calla's wrist and practically dragging her to where the teachers stood.

"I need to go to the bathroom." she told them once they noticed she and Calla were standing there.

"I'm sorry, dear. No one is to leave this room for the time being." Ms. Blackwood said, gently but firmly.

"But I really need to." Selene insisted. "And if we're going to be in here much longer, it's going to be a problem."

She bounced on her toes, trying to help sell it. Ms. Blackwood looked from Selene to Calla.

"You too?" she asked skeptically.

Calla opened her mouth, but Selene cut her off before she had a chance to say anything.

"I don't want to go alone." Selene said. "Not when there's some kind of who-knows-whatout there."

Calla winced inwardly; she could practically hear her friend calling her a monster.

Ms. Blackwood studied them for a moment.

"Go." she said finally. "Then come straight back. Be quick about it."

"Yes, ma'am." Selene nodded, dragging Calla out of the library and towards the bathroom. As soon as they made it through the doors, Selene turned to Calla.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

"What?"Calla tried for shocked indignation, but it came out as more of a squeak.

"You planted that sandwich, didn't you?" she asked. But she didn't sound angry. Instead, she sounded curious, confused. "Why'd you do it?"

"I didn't plantanything." Calla insisted. She'd thought she'd thrown it away.

"...What are you?" Selene asked. Her eyes seemed a little more yellow than Calla remembered, and she wondered if Selene was getting ready to change. ...Was she afraidof Calla?

"You know what I am." Calla said, trying to call her friend's bluff.

"I know what you saidyou were." Selene corrected. Then, "Show me your fangs."

Calla's eyes widened. She scoffed, hoping it was convincing. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

She tried to make it sound deeply personal – like showing off her underwear or something. But Selene wasn't buying it.

"Oh, please." she rolled her eyes. "Keeran does it all the time. I don't think I've ever seen him withoutfangs."

"Well, that's just Keeran..." Calla trailed off. But she stopped when she saw Selene's face.

"No, it's not – it's every vampire here. Every one except you."

Calla opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say.

"So what are you really?"

"...Human." Calla whispered. She leaned up against the wall to steady herself, wondering what was going to happen to her now.

Selene just stared at her.

"Well, that can't be right." Selene said finally.

Calla let her eyes sink to the floor.

"Wait – really?"Selene asked, sounding shocked.

Calla nodded miserably. Then, before Selene could get the wrong idea, Calla blurted out, "I didn't mean to – it was just a sandwich! I didn't even makeit. And I didn't realize it had garlic until I was halfway done!"

"And you threw it away..." Selene said slowly.

"Should have just stuffed it in my locker." Calla mumbled at her shoes.

Selene let out a short, barking laugh. "Yeah, that probably would have been better."

"Couldn't be much worse, anyway." Although if someone had smelled it, there'd be no question as to who it belonged to. Then, she pulled her head up, looking her friend in the eye. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Well, I didn't – not at first." Selene admitted. "But I've never seen anyone look so guilty before. And then I got to thinking... you're the only one who doesn't complain about late-night hunting, or trips to the blood bank with your parents, or anything like that. You don't seem to hear as well, either. And I've thought I caught salami on your breath more than once."

"Really?" Calla had always thought she'd been so good at brushing her teeth after lunch.

"I just thought I was imagining it. But now..." Selene shook her head. "I can't believe I missed it."

"Please don't tell." Calla tried not to flat-out beg, but it was hard. She wasn't sure what the vampires would do to her if they knew she'd been lying.

Selene stared at her for a moment. Calla swallowed hard, but she tried to be brave.

"I'm going to tell them it was me." Selene said matter-of-factly.

"Really?" Calla couldn't believe it. "Why?"

"You're my friend." Selene shrugged. "Not a lot of outsiders like us. You do. And you... you actually wantto go to a school like this."

"Will they believe you?" Calla had thought half the problem was that no werewolf could have eaten the rye bread.

"I'll just say my older sister was playing a prank and didn't think I'd actually take it to school."

"You'd really do that?"

"Sure." Selene shrugged. "But if you ever end up in a situation like this again, pick werewolf next time."

"You think there's really going to be a next time?" Calla laughed. How many opportunities would she really get to pretend to be something other than human?

The two walked into the library, Selene ready to cover for her. Calla took a deep breath, trying to ready herself. She jumped about a foot in the air when the library door banged closed behind them.

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Calla awoke with a start. There was another loud bang. She looked around vaguely. It took her a second to realize she was in her room. The window was open and periodically smashing into the wall.

Relief rushed through her as she realized she hadn'ttried to poison an entire school of vampires. Then, the relief gave way to disappointment. She might not have freaked out a school of monsters, but that also meant she didn't have any of those same monsters as her friends.

She got out of bed and headed downstairs. At least it was the middle of summer break, so she'd been allowed to sleep in.

She was in the process of pouring herself a bowl of cereal when her mom walked in the room, flipping through the mail.

"Good morning, honey." her mom said.

"Morning." Calla mumbled dejectedly through a mouthful of food.

Her mom gave her a look that said she knew better than to talk with her mouth full. Then, she set an envelop down in front of her daughter.

Calla stared at it, reading the elegantly printed calligraphy on the envelope over and over. Could it really be? Or was her mind just playing tricks on her? She ripped the envelope open and unfolded the paper that had been neatly placed within. As she read, a smile plastered itself across her face.

You are cordially invited to attend school at theAlgul Academy...

Your story here...

Press Shift+Enter for multiple line breaks.

Alex look outside the window as rain pattered gently down onto the window. It bubbled down in aggressive spurts and sprays. The newly-crowned man glanced at his wrist and noticed the time. 20:32.Panicking, Alex swept off his chair and stumbled around his cloak and heavy boots. "Oh, Kings of Stars, give me strength!" he muttered through gritted teeth. It felt like he was wading through a swamp. The pitter-patter of feet made Alex look up. There was Opal. She was dressed in a long, turquoise gown with white frills at the collar. Slim, ebony heels clicked satisfyingly on the wooden floor of the throne room. Opal's pale face and slender features were made up by graceful strokes of henna makeup. Alex remembered why he had loved her all that time ago...and why he still did. "The festival starts in minutes, my dear. Are you ready?""I would be if this cloak didn't trip me up at my every move." Alex replied whilst almost falling over in an attempt to unhook his cloak from his shoe. Opal just chuckled and swanned over to him, her hands wrapping around his neck. Alex's wife untied the broach around his chest and the long, ridiculous cloak collapsed to the floor with a whoosh. In one slender movement, the woman pinned a shorter, velvet red cloak to Alex and kissed him. "Ready now?""Always."Opal chuckled and grasped her bony fingers around Alex's. She took him out of the room and down to the courtyard where Alex surveyed his castle. There was a long balcony stretching all around the square, cobblestone yard. Hallways and grand doors veered off into the darkness and low torches flickered dimly in the evening light. Below the balcony, more doors and hallways seeped in and neatly cut hedges cornered of the courtyard. A mighty, golden chariot was waiting outside to take them down the to the town, where music and lights and noise could be heard and seen, with a strikingly black horse ready to go. Alex looked towards the sky and remembered his best mate. Zach. He smiled a little as a single tear dropped his cheek. He looked at Opal and her gaze was clouded with sadness as well. Alex touched his crown and then his heart."Never forgetting you buddy."

Hope u liked the ending :0

How many times have we doom scrolled on Social Media, wishing we were like those we idealised?Those gorgeous slim gym ladies, living a dream we’ve always dreamed of. Those warm sands beneath our feet, the crystal-clear water lapping at our toes. Their beautiful bowls made from rainbows and their sparkling drinks with the fruit wedges and umbrellas.The never ending forest trails carved out by the Fae. Hues of deep greens and muddy browns calling us home. The homemakers that live off their own produce, living simple and easier lives. The parents who are happy juggling their family lives while running their own business, or the stay-at-home parents making everyday an adventure. But all we think is, how do they manage it?The artists who showcase their incredible talents through their creations, building their own studios and living out their dreams. How we wish we could do the same.To the fashion houses, and high street stores, convincing us we need a new beauty routine every few months, or that our overstuffed wardrobes are drab and need constant revival. The diet fads and the perception of beauty changes based on those images flooding our mind at every turn. In film and TV, magazines and Social Media. Leaving us to wonder, if we will ever be enough?But we forget, it’s all an illusion and over time we’ve become blind to the truth. These perfect individuals are leading false lives. The photographs we surround ourselves with are nothing more than smoke and mirrors, opening our minds to be more critical of ourselves, and for what? To spiral ourselves into the blue, wishing we could change our lives in an instant. The pressures of society forcing us to reach that impossible bars based on their ideals of fulfillment.Over time, people have forgotten the beauty of living. That our lives are worth more than an image altered a thousand times or how we dress and how we speak. We shouldn’t measure our worth based on someone else’s capabilities, instead we should focus on our own journey and enjoy every second of the beauty that is life.​​​​​​​Always be true, always be you.

Hey Y'all!!!

These past weeks have been so long, but I keep on writing so that's good. I just started crying because I had to kill a character, and I started to like her.

Anyway, I was wondering if you want another update, if so what on? Behind the scenes, or what's going on with me?

Or do you want more of a story I'm working on?

Let me know!!!

Also just so you know I might not respond right away, I have big tests coming up for school, and I won't be using my computer that much.

Pale moonlight spans on a jaundiced book, Anna’s quivering hands go limp as soon as she reads the name of these nonfiction–history papers… (P.S. This is still a fiction you are reading)

…”Anna”, with a surname resembling hers, GASP “Anna Whistlewhite—is an honest, that’s me…, virtuous–wait that’s also me…and loving–wait, that is so me! IS THIS ME!? AN ACCOUNT OF ME!?...Anna Whistlewhite,” GASP, “diagnosed with the Bubonic Bat plague From Wuwan, Londors. Died five days shortly after knowing of her illness which was on the day of her birthday…”

Thunder claps and flashes the shock on her face. She would have jumped but this news to her, coming from her friend who seemed worried about their tarot card reading yesterday…she immediately tried to fish out her phone from who knows where she put it. On the desk? In the cupboard? In her coochie? Oh…it is on the back page of the book–serving as a bookmark for—she grabs it immediately, calling her friend. “HYUNDEEE!”

“Gosh Anna, don’t scream when people are just waking up.”

Anna checks the clock, and urgently answers, “It’s 7 in the evening, what do you mean?”

“I’m a nighty owlie darling~” Yawning and hearing someone knock on her door, “Oh, coming~ must be my Dilto I ordered off you-know-where~”

“GURL LISTEN TO ME, YOU WON’T BELIEVE THE BOOK WE BOUGHT YESTERDAY!”

“Thanks hot man~ see you ‘round” Then turning back to her friend, “What’d you say gurl?”

“GHURL!”

“WHAT!?”

“The book yesterday!” She tells again, “We bought one right? For our science investigative project but then I found out that this accounts to ME!”

“uh…huh….I’m afraid I don’t follow sis…”

“The patient written here. Her name is Anna Whistlewhite! That’s me, SO ME. In fact, she is even honest, virtuous, and loving, which is ME!”

“Isn’t that everyone though?”

“Believe me Hyunde, I really feel like this is me and I am going to die this saturday!”

“seriously? That’s prom day and you’ve been saying that ever since you partnered with Batrick.”

“THIS IS DIFFERENT. THIS CONCERNS ME GHURL, MY MORTAL BODEUGH. I’M GOING TO DIE!”

Hyunde sighs, “gotta cook for Betty now sis. Byeee”

“Wait, HYUNDEE WAIT!”

The phone call hangs up. And Anna ends up staring down at this book for another ten minutes, reading through the account of what has happened to this Anna Whistlewhite who is probably not even her. And she wearily sleeps, wondering if she should attend school tomorrow or not.

“Yes, yes, dieee”

“B-but old man I–”

“Come to me and dieeee!”

“GAAAAAH!” Anna jumps off her bed, “oof”ing on the carpet floor. She sits up, cold sweat from the wrinkly old man in her dreams, “that old man must be Anna’s doctor!” She thinks surely, before changing her clothes and charging for the nearest hospital like a bull. Not even bothering to go up to the front desk as she made her way to the emergency room and brought herself on a hospital bed. “Doctor!” Chickenly screaming for one.

“M-ma’am, uhm, you should get off there…that is for patients” a nurse says,

But Anna is sure of himself as a patient and demands to see the doctor as if she is demanding to see the manager. The book clutched against her chest. Finally, after calling out like a dying pig for 5 times, an old doctor who looks exactly like the one in her dream comes up to her and asks what’s wrong. She is already spooked by the nightmare and now this, it seems as if she is reliving Anna Whistlewhite in the book when she tells the doctor “this is me!”. But the doctors and nurses do not believe her and ask the guard to send this crazy woman out.

In her struggles against the bulked up men, she preaches about Anna Whistlewhite in the book being her. Which can only be sideglanced by the professionals as absurd and psychotic behavior. Anna Whistlewhite gets thrown out of the hospital because nobody believes her.

But Anna Whistlwhite does not give up even if she was scratched by a cat which only fueled her to find more hospitals. Three then six hospitals claimed her to be a wild psycho, rejecting her. As night dawns, her stomach complains about her not eating breakfast, lunch and dinner which she only thinks are symptoms of her illness. The first day of the first book ends with Anna Whistlewhite dehydrated, malnourished and paranoid.

“Ghurl, you really won’t believe me?” She asks her friend on the phone, after hearing some things in her room. “I think there is a murderer outside my door. They keep knocking…”

“...Is that post mortem exam absent?”

“WHAT!? No! I never even thought about going to school today.”

“Umm, then good luck i guess…amma be busy studying.” And she hangs up again just like that.

Anna grits her teeth, tears the final page of the first day that leads her to day two. Entailing the first symptom as madness and insanity. “T-that’s me…this is me again…Anna Whistlewhite proceeds to read her favorite book of the night to relieve her of the pain from her tummy, and worms crawling under her skin. She does not stop because she believes that that is the only cure for her against the Bubonic Bat. She even started to pluck the leaves off her neighbor’s tree–” in her case, a cacti, “and brewed a tea with it to keep her awake” literally spiking her tongue to bleed and her eyes wide awake.

“Whistlewhite then began to contact overseas doctors and quacks for their solutions but they cannot suggest anything since the bubonic bat plague has been never heard of before. This imaginary plague eventually became a social hoot hoot trend where people think they have the bubonic bat by exhibiting the same symptoms as the black plague. Anne Whistlewhite, became obsessed” and she does so, “obsessed by these patients like her that she begins contacting them as well. Once again, they all think of her as crazy.” As the sun rises, “Anne Whistlewhite then start her day by doing yoga that helps for digestion, thinking that she already ate and slept when in fact she hasn’t.”

She wants to find out more about her illness. Saturday is 4 days later and that only made her freak out into going to school, announcing to all with a loudspeaker that she is going to die this saturday. Which only made her look crazy in front of everyone except, when at the female restroom, a man knocks into her cubicle where she is taking the air dookie. She doesn't even sound surprised anymore in fact, she invites him in.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks with a worried tone,

“I’m sick…sick in the head because the bubonic bat infects the mind of its victims!”

“Have you gone to the clinic? I can help you there?”

“T-the clinic! Yes! I have to go to the clinic!” And Anna Whistlewhite runs to the clinic, leaving the mystery helper in the cubicle. She goes to the school clinic for a diagnosis, properly this time, and the results come immediately that she has nothing wrong in her system except the lack of vitamins and nutrients as well as water. Her cells are almost shriveled to their core, with uer body almost also shriveled to the bone. Leading the nurses and the clinician to forcefully feed her. But this only made her think that they are experimenting with her, and Anna Whistlewhite ends day two throwing up in her bathroom and self diagnosed herself with severe Bulmillia

Two days left until her fateful day. Anne Whistlewhite is said to confine herself, which she does so and grabs her laptop to start typing out a story. Believing that writing is her only solution to escape this madness and that everyone can be made aware. She writes using another name, Kelly Hustlethorne, and administers the same illness–the bubonic bat. The date Kelly Hustlethorne will have this illness is the day after this saturday. Anne Whistlewhite is said to spend her whole third day, writing and recording, with the occasional visits from her experimenters. They give her the needed ‘supplements’. She vomits out their liquids shortly after they leave. Her friend was among them, thinking that indeed, Anne Whistlewhite, is mentally ill and she blames how the exam absences and expected failure led her to this–simply because, in her words “Anne did not study.”

Then, the day before Saturday, her body cannot move from the bed. She is stone stuck and her defecation and urine stain the bed sheets. Someone’s footsteps can be heard from the living room and the old doctor who spoke with her in the first hospital she checked for help appeared with a suitcase. Anne Whistlewhite is said to be visited by the grim reaper himself, brought with him is a sickle that he uses to check the condition of her body and organs. He does not leave her, in fact, he starts experimenting with her. And Anne Whistlewhite is horrified by what she sees and starts spasming. Throughout the evening until the fated midnight, she spasms. Her body excretes out every liquid it has before creaking unalive.

The old man takes Anne Whistlewhite’s laptop and delivers the story of Kelly Hustlethorn to a publisher that gets immediately delivered to the apartment unit of a mother of four children with all their names as Kelly Hustlethorn. Then, their mother starts reading it and thinks she is the one in the book, convincing her other children except for the eldest. Who calls a mental health specialist to check up on his mother and siblings, diagnosing them with severe hypochondriasis. That which had many victims since the past year, and all of them recover after a “climax day” and they forget all that happened when they were thinking like the main character in the book.

No! Maisie gave in! She gave in to her jealousy, grief, and fear. Maisie had destroyed Feya’s hopes and dreams—a girl who lost her home, best friend, andleg in a mere year.

“Maisie, you can’t dwell on this,” Melody stated, pointing in the direction Feya ran. “You need to go after her and apologize.”

Maisie sank into her seat. “I can’t. I don’t think I can ever face her again, Melody.”

“Yeah, that will be difficult when you’re suitemates.” Melody sighed. “I never had a friend in the College Program, Maisie. That’s why I can’t watch you two crumble like this.”

“Wait, you never had a friend?” That was hard to believe. Melody looked like the kind of person who would have tons of friends. While Maisie didn’t want friends when she started the DCP, she still met Feya.

“No one accepted me,” Melody added, “but Coronado was always my go-to place to escape the CP.” She paused. “And then that day happened.”

“What day?” Maisie was eager to learn more, but Melody shook her head.

“Not now. Right now, you need to find Feya.”

“Where would she have run off to?”

“Maisie, it’s Feya.” Melody giggled. “Where would she go?”

Veracruz, Maisie thought. She collected Feya’s wheelchair and passed Antonio on her way out. “Sorry, Antonio, but we need to cancel dinner.”

“Of course, señorita,” he responded. “I understand, and I hope things work out with you and your friend. Villa Del Lago isn’t going anywhere.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind.” Maisie patted his shoulder. “I hope things work out, too. Come on, Melody and Daisy.”

Maisie, Daisy, and Melody nearly ran to Veracruz. There, they found Feya crying beside the piano, clutching her wrist.

Oh God! Maisie hurt her! Please say she didn’t break Feya’s wrist!

Melody ran off to get help, but Maisie remained with her fairy, who refused to look at her.

“I don’t wanna talk to you, Maisie.” Feya turned her back to her.

“Feya, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She didn’t speak. Instead, she picked up Daisy and placed her on her lap.

Maisie noticed her bleeding wrist. “Feya, your wrist is bleeding.”

“And who’s fault is that?” she growled.

Maisie cringed.

“I thought so.” Feya scoffed.

Gosh, how was Maisie supposed to get out of this fluke? “Feya, it’s not that I don’t believe in spirits; I just see no evidence of the so-called Veracruz Ghost.”

“You have no idea, do you?” Feya stood and limped by Maisie. “She showed herself to us because we need help. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

Feya said nothing else.

***

It was the strangest thing. Maisie, too, found herself drawn to Veracruz. Sleep was non-existent that night, so she got up around 3:00 a.m., pulled on her robe, and grabbed her room key. Feya shuffled so Maisie remained quiet. However, she wondered if she was really asleep.

Maisie trekked to the Convention Center but paused when she reached Veracruz Hall.

She heard singing—beautiful, melodic singing that sounded like a siren. Not only that, but someone played Veracruz’s piano. How, though? When Maisie saw it earlier, the piano was locked. This was weird, but that singing was magical and Veracruz’s only other sound. Therefore, Maisie straightened and entered it.

The singing and piano playing stopped once she crossed into Veracruz’s second half. “Melody?” Maisie inquired when Melody appeared from behind the instrument. Her heart flipped like a pancake.

“Maisie!” Melody shut the piano’s top and tucked hair behind her left ear. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Better question. What are youdoing here? How did you get into that piano?”

Melody rested her palm on it. “I love the piano. It’s my favorite instrument. I always play it when I can—usually late at night.”

“I didn’t know you played. Or sang.”

Melody smiled feebly. “Oh, I love music, Maisie. I wanted to be a musician, but no one in my family or the CP accepted me.”

“But why? You’re wonderful.”

Melody shut her eyes. “Let’s just say none of my family members, roommates, or co-workers liked the queer population.”

Why did she keep talking in the past tense? More importantly, what did she mean by “none of my family members, roommates, or co-workers liked the queer population”? Melody grew more mysterious by the second.

She inhaled and opened her eyes. Melody tapped her fingertips and brought her heels together. “You see, Maisie, not everyone at Disney values the Inclusion Key. You and Feya were fortunate. I returned to Coronado when I died because nobody, not even my family, mourned me. Mom had me at eighteen and was pregnant again three months after I died. I was a disgrace to my family because I’m queer, and I didn’t want to be with people like that.”

“Wait!” Maisie held up her hands. What do you mean ‘when I died’? Why are you talking in the past tense?” How much did her voice shake? Ghosts weren’treal, right? Please?

“Maisie…” Melody fell quiet, but then she nodded and met her blue eyes. “I-It’s me. I’m the Veracruz Ghost.”

To the boy who was never meant to be:

Why did it have to happen to us?

Why does everyone else get to have their stories then ours has to be lost somewhere in a corrupted state?

Why do we have to be the "right person, right place, wrong time"?

Why can't I just give up on what was never meant to be?

How did we go from a simple question to such heart break?

How did one person go to the one thing that makes me wake up in the morning?

How am I supposed to let go of the biggest regrets I've ever had?

How am I supposed to forget you so I can find someone else?

Please, next time, don't leave me. And I won't let you go.

-The girl who was never meant to be

As Tawny walked down the hall, she spotted Maddie, who was staring wistfully at something on the wall.

“What’s up, Mads?” Tawny asked.

“This,” Maddie said glumly. She pointed at an ornate flyer affixed to the wall, flush with colours of red, orange and brown.

Tawny read the flyer. “‘Ivoree Gates Annual Autumnal Social’? What’s that?”

“Only one of the most high-profile, prestigious events of the school year,” Maddie said. “And my worst nightmare.”

Tawny frowned. “Why’s that?”

“Because I never have a date!” groaned Maddie. “It’s a real who’s-who sort of event, and there’s no better way to feel like a nobody than to not have a plus one.”

“No one’s ever asked you to be your date?” asked Tawny.

“Uh...actually,” Maddie said, her eyes going to the floor, “No. That’s not allowed. It’s a Sadie Hawkins dance.”

Tawny blinked. “Sadie...Hawkins...?”

“It means the girls have to ask the guys out...” muttered Maddie.

They continued together down the hall. “Girls ask the guys...” mused Tawny. “So that means...you’ve been dateless by choice.”

Maddie nodded.

Tawny pressed on. “Is it because you’re shy? Do you not think any of the boys would want you as a date?

“More or less...” replied Maddie. “Yes, no...it’s complicated. Could we...maybe change the subject? This social always tends to freak me out.”

“Oh, ok...” Tawny noticed that Maddie was getting uncomfortable so they talked a bit about their plans for the upcoming break.

When they turned the corner, however, the next corridor was abuzz with female students whispering and murmuring.

Tawny thought she was once again being visibly ostracized, but Maddie placed a hand on her shoulder. “There’s a rumour flying around. Apparently, Grady and Elizabeth are on the outs.”

“I didn’t even know they were a couple...” Tawny mused over the cruel exchange between Grady and Elizabeth in English class, and suddenly Elizabeth’s reaction made total sense.

“Yeah, Grady was asked by another girl to the dance and he accepted. It’s like the talk of the town - Grady and Elizabeth were like a celebrity couple for YEARS.”

“That’s too bad,” said Tawny.

As they reached outside and descended the steps, another group of girls were outside the school, screeching uncontrollably.

In the centre of it all stood Elaine, the loudest of them all, dancing in place and fanning herself.

“He said YES!” cried Elaine, with actual tears streaming down her face. “He actually said YES!”

As the other girls congratulated her, Tawny spotted Dylan’s red Porsche peeling down the road.

“Whoa...looks like Elaine won the lottery,” said Maddie. “I guess Dylan finally let himself be asked out to the Social.”

“He doesn’t go?” asked Tawny.

“Not usually,” replied Maddie. “I mean...he’d still show up and wreak havoc because of who he is. But he never would go as someone’s date. This is certainly a first.”

“The rich get richer,” mused Tawny.

As they continued onward to their dormitory, Tawny caught sight of something.

A tall, statuesque woman, with long brown hair, was standing in the distance. She was looking away from them, at the trees surrounding the Ivoree Gates campus. She was wearing an emerald green coat and a royal purple scarf; both the scarf and the woman’s hair whipped wildly thanks to the seasonal wind that blew.

“You alright?” asked Maddie.

Tawny hadn’t even realized Maddie was still talking, she was so awestruck by the woman. “Uh...yeah, I’m fine.” When Tawny turned her attention back to the trees, the woman was nowhere to be seen. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

“Hey Maddie...” said Tawny. “Ivoree Gates isn’t haunted by any chance?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “Haunted?”

“Yeah, like...are their ghosts that roam the campus during the day or...?”

Maddie chuckled and threw her arm around Tawny affectionately. “I can see why McCurdy’s class is your favourite. You are just bursting with creative imagination.”

1

Monday. The most hated day of the week for the last hundred years. Doesn’t matter what, whether it’s raining, or slush and mud, or bone freezing cold; people should always leave their lives behind, and go to the dangerous external world, only just for survival.

Most people hate that day. But not all of them. There are always certain enthusiastic people who greet the new day with a lot of energy and readiness to achieve. Perhaps these are the type of people that HR departments are always hunting for. Where do you see yourself in five years?

The young man crossing the street on that fall Monday morning never had a problem answering that question.

However, despite his enthusiasm, his appearance tells us a completely different story. A short Latino-American man, clumsy in his movements, he smiled with embarrassment every time he accidentally almost bumped into a passerby, and people smiled back. Every step he took was uneven, like someone just learning to walk. He’s always been making a sad, happy or tense face of its own accord. Sometimes he was stopping right in the middle of the street and watching things on his phone, which led many cars honking at him. He had a simple face, and any stranger would say he was a kind, perhaps even weak person. His childish smile, which made him look defenseless, and his thick eyebrows that gave him rural charm could help him make friends, but also could have played a cruel joke on him.

“Mr. Kevin!” someone called him from behind.

Kevin turned and realized he had missed the car that was waiting for him. He had known this driver for three years, and that scene had happened more than a hundred times, but Mr. Harris never got angry at him. As always, Kevin sits in the car, saying sorry for not noticing it, and Mr. Harris, as always, says it’s nothing.

That’s how the average morning starts for an unusual yet ordinary guy, who loves his work and loves his life.

2

Making good friends was always hard for Kevin. However, Kevin was also fortunate. This time too, at his current job, almost immediately he found a new mate. Over the past three years, Chris had been his only good friend from work. Both Chris and Kevin were the head researchers of their respective labs, and they seldom saw each other during working hours, so maybe that was a reason they could sustain friendship, because most of the people would say they were incompatible. While Kevin was a calm person and despite all his intelligence he was a complete simpleton — even his wife, Debby, somehow said he reminds her of a little calf, trustful and curious — Chris was a type of heart-stealing playboy, with a smile that could possibly open any door. Kevin sometimes compared him to a captain from Doctor Who, but of course he would never say that aloud. Chris was tall, had a good complexion, and sometimes Kevin felt envious of him, but he never thought of going to the gym, and achieving a good body for himself. Kevin was taking a breath, looking sad, but he was forgetting about that almost immediately. However, despite their differences, Kevin and Chris maintained their friendship over the years.

It was Tuesday evening. Chris and Kevin were sitting at the local bar, from time to time, Chris raised his glass, allowing rays of scarlet sunset to shine through his drink. Chris was already relaxed. Meanwhile, Kevin could consume only beer, any stronger drink immediately would knock him out. So, that evening, only Chris was a bit tipsy, while Kevin was mostly just sitting there and listening to him. Today, Chris talked even more than usual. The last couple of weeks he was really stressed out because of their colleague, who was a new — and a hundred times more stricter than the previous — staff security chief, and with the new safety rules that were established by the company two days ago, it became almost impossible to find a common language with him.

“I swear to you,” exclaimed Chris, “I bet you that Boris is a Russian spy, who wants to establish communism here in the US. Have you ever met a person named Boris? There you go. It’s too suspicious. Mark my words, we all will regret one day.”

“We can’t know that,” Kevin tried to calm him down. “Furthermore, there has been no communism in Russia for around fifty years, people who have seen the Soviet Union with their own eyes are already too old. And speaking of Boris, I heard he was in the military, so it’s impossible for him to be a Russian spy.”

“How could you know that?” Chris was already heated. “It’s just his cover. Did you see his face yesterday? As if I killed his beloved little puppet dog.”

“You forgot to mark containers with chemicals again. It breaks even old safety rules, not just new ones.”

“There was only one new container, not a hundred of them. It was still sealed. How could we mix it up?”

“Boris nitpicks you just because of such an attitude. Things related to safety rules didn’t become wrong even if you have “justification”.”

“Why do you protect him? You also were bullied by Boris in the last couple days,” Chris noticed.

“I haven’t gotten used to the new safety rules yet; it’s just a matter of time. As soon as we all get used to new rules, I’m sure we will get along with Boris.”

“You are such an optimist!” shouted Chris. “Even if you reject that, we are in big trouble, and I swear, we —”

A phone call interrupted Chris. He glanced at his phone screen.

“It’s my boyfriend,” he said quietly. “Hey, James!...”

After a couple of seconds he turns to Kevin.

“We’re having a big party today. Want to join?”

Kevin actually wanted to, but he still needed to go to work tomorrow, and there were things he wanted to check out today. His wife also was waiting for him, and they haven’t had much time together recently, and he felt a bit guilty, so he went home.

3

In the late evening only the sounds of the mechanical keyboard could be heard. The room was shrouded in semi-darkness; the light from the computer screen and the small desk lamp couldn’t brighten the room. Anybody who might enter the room would get the smell of apples immediately. The man’s figure was covering the light from the screen, and his face was brightened. He looked tense and serious, sometimes biting his lip. That’s how Kevin was spending his evenings for the last two years.

He worked in a chemical research company. They didn’t produce anything, but instead they were researching new possibilities. After a new discovery they were selling the right to produce, but kept patents. Their company tried to create a new antidepressant, and two years ago Chris’s team achieved success. They called it Clarent, and it was highly efficient. However, that new substance was toxic for the mucous membrane, so it couldn’t be used through oral administration. It couldn’t be injected into the bloodstream, because at higher concentrations it was toxic as well. The only way they could use it was by IV, when the drug in low concentration is slowly injected into the blood. But that wasn’t the way for the company, they couldn't sell the formula for such a weird working drug, meanwhile the real cost of it was enormous. So they wanted to create a new substance that can be safely consumed in very small concentrations, and in certain conditions, like special electromagnetic signals, it can be reduced into Clarent. That’s where Kevin's work began. If they achieve that, Kevin believed that depression could be cured, just as humanity once defeated smallpox and rubella. Before attempting to produce a new substance, Kevin’s team first needed to simulate a new molecule in the computer, because, if the computer says there is no way that can work, it’s worthless to try. While the big supercomputer was full time modeling different combinations, Kevin decided to try some specific molecules. Every evening he came home from work and tried new ideas he accumulated during work hours.

After a quick dinner he settled down in his office, and worked without counting time. He had a full carafe of apple juice, and drank almost everything; only half of the glass remained.

The screen blinked a couple of times, Kevin closed the red window titled “failure” and breathed out with disappointment. He already wanted to start modeling the new molecule and reached for the notebook, when the door opened.

“Aren’t you finishing, honey?” a sleepy woman asked from a slightly opened door.

Kevin saw her curvy red hair. He felt guilty again, but …

“I’m almost done,” answered Kevin. “Please don’t wait for me, Debby, and go to sleep.”

She exhaled.

“Fine, but remember, you still have to go to work tomorrow. Don’t stay too long,” Debby said after a second of silence.

She smiled mysteriously before closing the door. Kevin looked at the closed door for a short time, grabbed the notebook and started to enter data. Later in the morning Debby found him sleeping right in front of the computer, using the keyboard as a pillow. The big green window with a single title “success” on it grabbed attention.

4

That Wednesday was one of the hardest for Kevin’s team. Work began, and they immediately commenced synthesis of a new substance. They faced some problems, but they were all solved. The new substance was ready, and the team was preparing the final experiment. All the workers were tense, and seeing this, Kevin became more nervous.

“Mr. Kevin, it’s done! Please check the conditions before starting,” said the senior assistant.

Kevin rushed to the lab bench, and started checking chemicals and devices one by one. After confirming preparations, the experiment began. Now they just needed to wait. Minutes passed slowly, and Kevin, along with the team, didn’t say a word. This was not the first attempt to synthesize a molecule that computer simulations said “might work”. A year ago Kevin also discovered a possible molecule, but it didn’t work. That’s why everyone was nervous today. And when the lab door opened, some workers shuddered.

“I came just to remind you that the new security rules exam is scheduled for Friday.”

That was Boris. He was wearing a dark uniform, and there seemed to be no flaws in his appearance. Workers were still afraid of him, and Kevin decided to account to Boris by himself.

“Yes Mr. Boris, we conducted extended training yesterday, and our team has made good progress for now. I’m sure that examination will not cause any problems.”

“That’s inspiring news,” said Boris, but unlike his words, his face didn’t express any compliment.

He was already about to leave, when the door opened, and Chris came in.

“Greetings! How are you doing?” said Chris, and quickly walked toward Kevin. “You won’t believe what happened yesterday…” he stopped talking for a moment. “Are you conducting the experiment? Did you find something yesterday? You achieved a lot in a short time while I was having fun. Great job!”

Chris started frantically clapping Kevin’s shoulder.

“Mr. Chris,” a voice came from behind.

Only then did Chris realize that he hadn’t noticed Boris. He made a sour face, looking at Boris as a bad student who didn’t do his homework.

“Today you came to work ten minutes late. It’s the fourth time this month, and sixteenth since I started working here. If that continues, the administrator wouldn’t turn a blind eye to your mistakes. More importantly, you didn’t learn new security rules yet, and it doesn’t look like you will in the next two days.”

All that Chris’s face expressed was his strong desire to be somewhere else.

He was considering how to respond to Boris, when the assistant said, “Mr Kevin, it’s a failure.”

Out of frustration, Kevin wanted to break something.

“In that case, I will go. Don’t want to disturb you, guys,” said Chris, and flew out of the lab.

Boris also looked at Kevin and said, “I must go now. Don’t forget to prepare for the exam.”

After the guests had left, Kevin stayed silent for a while. Then he turned to the assistants.

“Please, check everything once more. I will be in my office,” he said.

5

Kevin spent the rest of Wednesday and all of Thursday in his office. Assistants called him for work issues a couple of times, and Chris once came to call him for lunch, but he didn’t come out. Everyone thought he locked himself in because of his disappointment, but in fact when it came to negative emotions Kevin had a fish memory. Behind closed doors of his office, Kevin was on the verge of resolving a new molecule issue. After the failure of the experiment, Kevin thought Is there any common pattern between this failed molecule and the previous one? What is the difference between a failed molecule and a successful one? He gathered data from previous and the latest experiment, then began analyzing it. Current data obviously wasn’t enough to make a conclusion, so it was impossible to figure out the common pattern mathematically. But Kevin always believed in his intuition, and didn’t hesitate in front of an unsolvable problem. By Thursday evening he almost blindly found the answer, but he felt stuck.

After that Kevin decided to take a break, and continue to analyze when the team will have more data. He called Chris and they met at the bar in the evening. When Kevin arrived, he saw Chris surrounded by a group of tourist women, fluently speaking Chinese Mandarin. Or it was just Kevin, who thought it was Chinese Mandarin, and fluent speech. Chris was wearing a pink shirt, but it didn’t look funny. Kevin could even be surprised, if he were interested in such things. After Chris noticed him, he said something to his companions that made them immediately sad, and raised his hand, calling Kevin. Kevin was a little afraid of new people, and when tourist women left Chris, he felt relieved. First Chris tried to get Kevin to talk, to find out why he hadn’t interacted with anyone for the last two days. But after a couple of shots, he forgot about previous intention, and conversation flowed naturally.

“... Then I saw his ex, and understood why James didn't believe in love when we first met,” Chris as always was talking a lot. “But what’s more impressive, it’s Deborah. I never would have said she’s your wife, if I didn’t know.”

“I’m still wondering myself. When we first met, she was… like… shining. Do you understand?”

“Kind of. But you never tell me how you two met. I feel a bit offended.”

“I was in London, attending presentations at organic chemistry conference. In the evenings I was visiting some sites. Once I came to the Faraday Museum. And at some point I understood that the things told by the guide were wrong. I pointed out his errors. An argument ensued between us, and I proved my point. She was here too. She approached me, and said I’m funny. But I didn’t hear it, I just…”

“Now I understand. It looks like she knows what she wants. She really has a different way of thinking.”

“She’s a very kind person. Sometimes I feel that I don’t deserve her.”

“I didn’t say anything about her kindness,” noted Chris with a smile, “but you can tell me.”

Kevin thought about the answer for a couple of seconds.

“You know she’s working now in that history revision group. They are trying to analyze historical figures, and their role from a modern perspective, even if it’s useless.”

That was a bit of an awkward answer, but Chris understood what Kevin meant. You are possibly a kind person if you try to find “evil” people from the past, and reveal their “evilness”.

“But what’s wrong with this?” Chris was taken aback by Kevin’s last words.

“They lived a long time ago. We can think we are good guys today, but after a thousand years, what would people say about us?”

Chris threw Kevin a sharp heavy look. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “You have a different way of thinking too. You both are pretty compatible,” he said with a smile. “But tell me, please, why were you locked in your office room for two days?” he changed the topic.

“I think I found a clue about what went wrong. If I finish that analysis, I would be able to create a new molecule that can transport your drug safely.”

“You did what? Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris was awed, and his voice became loud. “You can finish our project!”

“Not yet,” answered Kevin. After a few seconds, as Chris was staring at him with a suggestive look, he said, “There still isn’t enough data. I need more. Or some divine inspiration.”

“Now I see. Tell me if you finish it. I’m pretty interested in finishing the project. Have we come to an agreement?”

He looked right in Kevin’s eyes until Kevin answered, “Yes, of course, but why are you asking?”

“Besides, while you were so busy, you upset Debby with your behavior,” Chris changed the topic again.

“I have a great plan!” Kevin exclaimed. “I will invite her to dinner!”

Chris’s eyebrows raised, he wanted to say something, but then reconsidered, and his mouth was open for a second or two.

“... It’s a regular plan. Not great…,” he answered.

Kevin’s back immediately lost its stiffness, and he looked down.

“But for you two, it would be great. I’m sure!”  Chris saw changes in Kevin’s posture, and quickly took his words back.

“Are you sure? You sure that I don’t need to… like… make a new, great plan?”

“Yes, of course. If you came with a great plan, it would look suspicious, she might think you had an affair.”

“I would never! …” Kevin shouted.

He stood up from his seat, and his hands were on the table. He accidentally knocked over Chris’s glass. People around turned to them. Chris raised his hands, calming down everyone. He grabbed Kevin’s shoulder, and made him sit down again.

“I understand that, Kevin. It’s just a woman’s behavior. You should get used to it, if you're not planning to divorce one day.”

Kevin decided to follow good friend’s advice, and limit his plans to the dinner. Concerning Chris’s advice about women’s nature, first he thought, Isn't it a bit sexist? but he didn’t pursue that thought. It was causing negative emotions in his mind, so he forgot that after a minute.

6

Friday was expected to be a busy day. It was on this day that an exam on the new safety rules was scheduled, as well as a monthly report to management. There wasn’t much actual work planned, and for the first part of the day everyone could concentrate on preparing for the exam. Kevin was preparing for the exam with his team, learning and repeating new safety rules. After three hours of practicing, he decided to stop and prohibited further practice for assistants. He didn’t want them to be too nervous right before the examination. He told them to relax and drink tea while he went to Chris’s lab. When he arrived, he saw Chris and his team were studying hard. They were talking all at once, yelling and swapping papers. When Kevin saw that, he left them. Nobody noticed him. He walked down to the canteen and got some lunch. His thoughts were focused on the project, and time flew by quickly. When he looked at the clock, it was already time to go to the exam. If he hadn’t glanced at the clock by chance, he would have missed the exam.

Kevin walked up to the meeting room, where the examination was scheduled. When he met Chris, the latter didn’t look nervous. Kevin was curious to know how Chris was doing. Actually, Chris looked empowered when Kevin walked toward him.

“Are you ready?” asked Chris with a smile.

“I am, but what about you? Did you secretly practice all this time? You look confident.”

“I learned everything just in the last couple of hours.”

“Are you sure everything will be OK?”

“You worrying about me more than I do. All will be fine.”

While they were talking, examiners from the head office came. Kevin was prepared, and finished all the questions fifteen minutes early, but when he got out of the meeting room, in the corridor he saw Chris.

“I finished earlier than you!” exclaimed Chris. “Try harder next time.”

He was having fun. It looked like he was pretty confident about the results. So Kevin didn’t question him further.

“Are you still here?” asked Kevin. “Is there something more we should do?”

“I'm waiting for my people. You also should think about it,” Chris answered.

At that moment Kevin looked like a dog who accidentally chewed his owner's shoes while he was at work.

“Don’t worry, I will not tell your guys,” Chris laughed.

They stayed here, talking about random things. Kevin's assistants finished soon, and they went to the lab together, leaving Chris in the corridor alone. After they arrived, Kevin started a debriefing. It turned out that everyone did well, and their department shouldn’t have problems. Kevin gave some orders and went to Mr. Biedermeier for a monthly report.

The big office was brightly lit. Air conditioning was working, despite it being somewhat cold outside, and everyone else stopped using it. An obese short man was sitting in a giant but still cheap chair. Unexpected calls scared him, and he almost lost his wig.

He picked up the phone, and a creaky female voice announced, “Mr. Biedermeier, Mr. Menendez has come. Should I let him in?”

“Did he have an appointment?” asked Biedermeier in a falsetto voice.

“Yes.” The short answer left Biedermeier disappointed.

He fixed his wig and said, “Let him in!”

The door opened, and Kevin came in. Or tried to come in, to be precise. He tripped over the threshold, and almost fell.

“You should be more careful, Mr. Menendez,” Biedermeier clicked his tongue, “we still need your good work!”

“I'm sorry,” Kevin apologized.

“Please, have a seat, Mr. Menendez!” Biedermeier pointed to an empty chair. His short, sausage-shaped fingers almost made Kevin laugh, but he restrained himself.

“Why did you come today, Mr. Menendez?” Biedermeier asked with a smile.

“It’s a monthly report time, Mr. Biedermeier,” answered Kevin with some confusion.

Biedermeier's eyebrows drooped and his smile faded. He raised his hand to fix his wig, but his hand stopped in the middle, and he scratched the corner of his eyebrow with his finger. Kevin put papers on the desk, and started explaining what was done last month. With each term Kevin used in his speech, Biedermeier’s face looked more and more sour. After he listened to the final part, which didn't contain any terms, his face brightened. Quickly he made a strict expression that looked like a caricature.

“Mr. Menendez, do you understand that the future of our company depends on your work?”

His voice rose even higher, and his feigned anger looked funny. Every time he shook his head, his third chin trembled like jelly.

“Mr. Biedermeier, during this month we became much closer to solving our problem, and finishing our project. We can consider it as an intermediate success,” Kevin said.

Biedermeier smiled. “Good! Good!” He started nodding. “Anyway you should focus on your goal now. Don't worry, and work at your tempo.”

After Kevin left, he started fixing his wig.

7

The dim desk lamp was barely lighting the old office. The polish of the massive oak wood desk was mysteriously shining under the light of a lamp. Gray-blue smoke was floating everywhere in the office, filling it with the smell of cigarettes. The desk was filled with notebooks, paper packs, pens and pencils. A couple of books were creating a tower in the corner of the desk.

Two men were sitting around it, one in the simple wooden armchair, in the place of the owner, the second in the front of the desk, in the guest's place. One, seated as the owner, was a middle-aged man with the looks of a sixties Hollywood actor. He was tall, had blue eyes, blondish hair, and a strong chin. The second one was old and short, with short black hair, and black eyes. They both had shaved faces, and both were wearing suits. They were talking quietly, but they could be heard if desired.

“… with regards to the “Great South” project, Mr. Mitchell decided to bring it to the end by himself. No intervention required,” said a short man, while lighting a new cigarette. “Lastly, Mr. Anderson, about the project “Ascension”, it’s almost finished. We can start clinical trials after the final product is finished.”

“Talking about “Ascension”. Mr. Smith, how much do we need this project? It's controversial with everything I learned from Mr. Johnson. And all our predecessors were working in other ways. I thought that…”

“You want to close the project?” a short man interrupted him. “Have you forgotten? Why are you fighting, Mr Anderson?” He leaned forward, looking directly into Anderson’s eyes, and his voice was unnaturally loud, maybe the loudest voice this office had ever heard. “Do you believe you're fighting...for something? Can you tell me what it is? Is it freedom? Or truth? It's all illusions, Mr. Anderson!” he caught his breath. “Today China is strong like it never was. External threats not illusion, Mr. Anderson. If we can't finish “Ascension” in five years, we will face big problems in the future. So I can't close the “Ascension” project. It will be finished. Time for games is over.”

Anderson’s hands clenched; he didn’t say anything.

“In any case, I am the one who is leading the “Ascension”. I’m not going to turn a blind eyes on any intervention,” Mr. Smith put an end to the conversation.

“More coffee?” said Anderson as if nothing had happened.

“It would be nice,” nodded Smith.

Anderson stood, walked to the shadow-covered part of the office, and after five seconds returned with a tray, two glasses of hot coffee on it. They were drinking coffee in complete silence, and looking into each other's eyes. After a while, Smith stood, and without saying a word walked out of the room.

After he left, Anderson removed a folder with a pack of papers in it from the drawer, and looked at the title for a long time. Only two words were written on the title page: project “Ascension”.

8

Lights in the restaurant's big hall were too bright. Kevin tried not to look at the sides, because everything was too shiny. Whenever he got confused, he was looking at Debby, and calming down. When Kevin was looking at her, she was shining even more than all the lights, but Kevin found that he couldn't look away. She was in a new pink dress, wore light makeup, her hair was curled as always, and her eyes appeared to be more alive than average.

Her appearance reminded Kevin of their wedding day. He was worried and nervous, and he didn't remember any particular detail about their wedding, except Debby. When it came to her, he remembered everything, her look, her smile, her scent and her soft lips.

They were sitting for a while, before the waiter came up, and they were able to place an order. Kevin wanted to break the silence.

“How do you do at work? You don't tell me that much. In fact, we talk much less than before. It is sad.”

“Right. You had hard times recently, I suppose. I’m fine. Hanson wrote ugly paper again. I crushed his arguments in my latest work,” she said with a smile. “Now tell me, what has been going on with you recently? You weren't here, on Earth. I mean even more than usual.”

Kevin brightened up, while telling Debby about his achievements. He told her about the experiment, and later analysis. He didn't notice, when under the desk Debby clenched hands. She looked down for a while, then took a glance right in Kevin’s eyes.

“Congratulations. You are indeed a genius,” she said.

“I wish that was true,” Kevin said with sadness. “When I was in school, I participated in the chemistry olympiad several times. Every time I was second. You know why?”

“You weren't prepared well? How is it possible?” Debby frowned.

Kevin laughed, “Once I spent the whole year on preparation. But, doesn’t matter how hard I tried, I was always second. Because there was someone who truly can be considered as a genius. I’m not a genius, this is what I learned early in my life.”

“Who can excel you, especially when you spend a year on preparation? Maybe he was just practicing more?” Debby placed her hands on the desk, looking at Kevin with widened eyes.

“He wasn’t practicing at all,” Kevin grinned, “when I knew that, it broke me mentally. You know him. It’s Chris. He has been a genius since early childhood. He probably could have finished university as a teenager, if he weren’t that bad in anything else except math, chemistry and physics.”

Debby was confused by the whole situation. She couldn't say anything, and Kevin hurried to break the pessimistic atmosphere.

“I’m not obsessed with that. It’s ok to not be a genius. I have my strengths as well. If I work hard, everything will happen in a better way.”

Debby smiled, “It looks like you never lose heart. I’m sure you will have success with that project.”

Despite her words, she looked sad. Kevin sensed she wanted to tell him something, but he couldn’t find the words to ask her.

“You know… I understand that you felt lonely last week. That's my fault. I should be more capable as your husband. I’m sorry…” Kevin said what was in his mind for the last two days.

Debby gave him a warm smile, “I understand. You worked on this project for two years. It would be great if you could finish it. When I read in the newspaper about new drugs, I will know that’s my husband's work.”

Kevin's eyes became moist, he didn’t say anything, continuing to look at his wife.

“Your order…” Waiter's voice pulled him out of his transfixion.

Kevin watched how the waiter was laying out dishes and utensils on the table. Accidentally, he started to count the number of items and the same pieces of food on the plates. “Six, three, seventeen… no it should be in other way.”

His thoughts were chaotic and so as not to forget anything Kevin found his notebook, and started to write everything down.

Nothing could distract Kevin at that moment, even the sound of a fallen fork. Debby quickly raised it from the floor, her hands were shaking. Meanwhile, Kevin continued to write down ideas as fast as he could. His hand was moving rapidly, right before it abruptly stopped. Only then Kevin saw where he is, and what he was doing.

“Sorry…” Kevin avoided looking at Debby's eyes. “I just had an idea, and… I know this is not a justification, but… It should be our evening, and I just ruined everything.”

“Did you…” Deborah’s voice stuttered. “Did you find something? Can you solve the problem?”

It seemed to Kevin that his wife is worrying about success as much as he is. His heart filled with a warm feeling.

“I’ve found — as I think — the last clue.” Kevin answered with a smile, “If I'm right, that would be possible, yes.”

“That’s…” Debby smiled and covered Kevin’s hand. “That's good. I’m proud of you.”

They both looked happy, but the rest of the evening passed in short conversations and awkward silence.

9

Later in the evening and early night Kevin passed in his office, sitting in front of the computer. He sent Debby to sleep, and started work. He continued his previous analysis using new numbers he discovered. His face was so tense that his facial muscles were in pain, but he didn't notice it. He finished the analysis, and started to calculate the new molecule using analysis results. It was not difficult, but long work; Kevin's impatience was growing every minute. When he finished, he checked everything once more, and started to input information into the computer. All he could do was wait. Kevin reached for the decanter and noticed that all the apple juice was gone. He left his place and walked to the fridge. When he returned with a new decanter of juice, the simulation was finished with success. He sat in front of the computer, not knowing what to do next. Everything was finished, but he couldn’t force himself to go to bed. He sat like this for a while, drinking juice.

The next day was a Saturday, and workers weren't allowed to work, but Kevin wanted to check everything so badly that he decided to talk with security. Jerome was on shift when Kevin arrived in front of their company building.

“Hello Mr. Kevin!” Jerome greeted him. “What brings you here today?”

“Mr. Jerome,” Kevin grabbed his arm. “I have very important work to do, and I can't wait for Monday. The future of the company depends on this project's success. Even more, the future of humanity.”

Under his serious look Jerome was slightly taken aback.

“Mr. Kevin, if that's true, you should try it now, but you must know that Mr. Biedermeier is here on Saturdays. So you should be more careful. And don't stay for too long.”

“It's only about an hour, thanks…” Kevin answered while entering the elevator.

“Either this one or that one, they're both workaholics,” said Jerome looking at elevator doors.

When Kevin passed through the corridor, he saw that the door to Chris’s lab was open. He looked inside, and called for Chris. The latter came out from his office.

“Why are you here today, Kevin?” asked Chris with a smile.

“I found a solution yesterday,” Kevin said. “I can't wait for Monday. But what about you?”

“You did that?” Chris grabbed Kevin’s shoulders and started to shake him.

“If you continue to shake me like that, my hands will become incapable of doing any experiment,” Kevin tried to protect his shoulders.

“Oh sorry,” Chris passed back. “I'm just very glad for your success. Please, tell me if the experiment is successful.”

“I’ll do that. But what are you doing here today?” Kevin was still puzzled.

“Just boring paperwork. I spent last week in experiments, and didn’t do any unrelated paperwork. Now I need to do my skipped job, before it will be too much for me.”

“You always…” Kevin shook his head. “It’s nothing. Tell me if you need any help.”

With these words, Kevin, who already was full of impatience, went to his lab.

When arrived, he began pulling out his inventory. He set his lab bench, prepared all environments before starting the substance synthesis. It was hard work, with a lot of pitfalls. Fortunately, half of last night he was sitting and calculating synthesis scenarios. So when hard problems arose, he had an understanding of how they should be solved and work was finished quickly. The second stage was an experiment with a new synthesized molecule. He changed the environment, and started an experiment. While he was waiting, Kevin decided to clean up everything that was related to the previous stage. After he finished the work, the experiment was over. The only thing that needed to be checked was whether the Clarent was created after the reaction. And what he saw made him so happy that he almost pulled down part of his equipment from the desk. That was a complete success. He repeated the reaction again, and it was still here. The first thing he did afterward was call his wife.

“I did it! I did!” he exclaimed, his voice was loud, almost a yell. “I did it!”

There was no answer for a couple of seconds, then Debby said, “I knew you would have success. I’m proud of you. We should celebrate it later. I knew a good place, where we can relax for a couple of days. You should ask for vacation next week.”

“I will. I want to tell you so much. I’m completely squeezed out now.” Only now Kevin started to feel all of the fatigue from bad sleep and tense working.

Kevin remembered what he promised to Chris. He went to Chris's lab, even without cleaning his workplace.

10

When Kevin arrived, Chris’s lab was empty, and the door was open. He called Chris, but he had no answer. Kevin stepped in, and the chemical smell assailed his nostrils. He found a broken bottle on the floor. Fortunately, it was just a cleaning chemical, not something too dangerous. Everything you need to do is simply close the bottle after use, because it quickly evaporates. Kevin thought that Chris accidentally broke the bottle, and ran out, maybe for chemical protection gear, or he just decided to wait until the gas had dissipated, since it wasn’t toxic.

Kevin was about to leave and find Chris, when he noticed a notebook with an experiment journal opened on the desk. He couldn’t avoid taking a look. He started reading.

“13.05.2039. 3:45 pm. Clarent injected into the subject's blood. It died after 15 minutes. Need further improvements, or a different way of administration.”

…

“26.09.2040. 7:12 pm. Decided to use an IV with a small concentration of drug. Subject still suffering from side effects. Need to slow down IV by 70%.”

Kevin started to turn the pages, to see how it ends.

“20.02.2041. 11:08 am. Used a Clarent with a new influence program on a subject. Effect still low. Subject decided to eat grapes in 2/3 cases. Need further development of influence program. Maybe add more visual and sound would solve a problem.”

…

“24.01.2042. 01:00 pm. Checked the subject. All 15 grapes rotten away, subject decided to eat cucumber instead. Work of Clarent approved. Need to start experiments on humans.”

Kevin’s face turned pale. He returned the notebook to the table, opening it with trembling hands to the same page. In the process he accidentally ripped one of the pages. Kevin’s thoughts didn’t want to line up. The only thing he understood at that moment was that he hadn't worked on the antidepressant for the last two years. Clarent wasn’t an antidepressant. Instead it was a brainwashing drug. He was about to take this notebook to Biedermeier, but he changed his mind at the last second. What if Biedermeier already knew everything? No, that would be a mistake. So he decided to go with the notebook to the police. But what if Chris notices that the notebook is missing? The answer came to Kevin immediately. He took the notebook, opened the first page, and took a picture with his phone. Take a picture, then turn the page and repeat. After he photographed the entire journal, Kevin returned the page where it was opened.

He returned to his lab. Kevin wanted to delete everything from his computer, and clean the workplace, so no one could access data from his analysis, and what molecule he used. Fortunately, he hadn’t included the analysis in the report papers. When he deleted everything, and was already cleaning up a desk, the lab's door opened. Kevin shuddered and looked at the entrance with fear, but it wasn’t Chris. It was Boris.

“Good morning, Mr. Kevin,” Boris entered the lab. Kevin took a step back, then forced himself to stop, and look into Boris’s eyes.

“Hello Mr. Boris. I was already leaving,” he said.

“I wanted to ask why you’re here at an inappropriate time,” Boris walked towards Kevin, “but now I change my mind. What happened, Kevin?” He put his hand on Kevin’s shoulder, took him to the chair and made him sit. “Something scared you? Nobody can hurt you. I'm also here to protect you. You can tell me everything. I will listen to you.”

If Kevin hadn't been scared, he might have been surprised that Boris could talk so much. Instead, the words from Boris calmed him. Kevin didn't realize how he told everything to Boris. He thought that Boris had some magical power, but it was actually his military experience that enabled him to talk with people, and make them believe him.

When he finished the story, Boris immediately said, “You really don't need to bring it to the police. Intelligence could be involved too. Actually, I think the whole project is supervised by them. You need a better way, maybe these papers should be revealed in Congress,” he took a pause to think. “It would be better if you left the building through an exit for service staff. Since you don't have a car, you should pass the underground parking, and you will walk out near the “Fantasy” cafe. You can catch a taxi there. I highly recommend you leave the city by car later.”

Kevin was surprised by Boris’s attitude.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked.

“Once I had sworn…” Boris was confused, “to support and defend… Never mind. It’s my decision. Now you should leave.”

Kevin did as Boris said. When he was leaving the building through underground parking, a strange thought came to his mind. One who was supposed to be his friend turned out to be a spy, and the other, who was suspected to be a spy, is indeed a reliable person. Life truly is strange.

11

When Kevin arrived at home, he didn’t see Debby, despite her having a free day on Saturday too. He hurried to call her.

“Debby,” Kevin said when she answered the call, “something happened, and I have an important thing to tell you.”

“I’m at the grocery store right now. What happened?”

“I'll tell you when you return home. I… I was wrong. Sorry…” Kevin interrupted the call and started to wait. He didn’t know what to do in this situation, he was walking through the house, from one end to another, grabbing items, and returning them to the place. He couldn’t tell how much time passed before Debby arrived. When she came in, Kevin hurried to close the door.

“Your face is pale,” said Debby, looking at Kevin with concern. “Tell me what's happened.”

“Debby,” Kevin grabbed her hand, “it's hard to believe, but everything I was working on turned out to be a lie.”

He told her everything, how he went to work, how finished the experiment, how found Chris’s journal, and how escaped through underground parking.

“So, you deleted all of the data concerning the analysis from the computer at work.” Debby’s brows got furrowed, she started to rub her temples. “Don't you have data on the computer in your office here, in a house too?”

Kevin realized his miscount, and wanted to go to the office, but Debby stopped him.

“You can't make data disappear by deleting it,” she said, “they probably can restore all deleted data from the computer at your work. You need to erase the hard disk. I’ll do this for you.”

She took a pause for thought. “Meanwhile, I think we should leave the city as soon as possible. This guy, Boris probably knew what he said. You know I got my uncle's house. It’s in the wilderness, there is also a bunker nearby. You know, he was scared of nuclear war, so he built this bunker. So while I'm dealing with your PC, go and pack our luggage. Suitcases under the bed, and our documents in the wardrobe, in a box,” after saying that she went to Kevin's office.

Left alone, Kevin was confused for a second, but then he started to perform a task. He found a suitcase, but faced a dilemma — what should be put in besides documents? He decided to start with things he understands. So Kevin took the box, and started packing the documents. When he finished, he started with the most logical step, and put some clothes inside.

When he was folding a shirt, the door opened. Kevin got scared, but when he turned around, it was just Debby.

“I started a process. Now it will finish by itself,” she said. It looked like she was amused by Kevin's reaction.

She helped him finish packing. They put suitcases in Debby’s car; it was time to leave the house. Kevin took one last look at the house, where he lived happily for the last four years. He turned and got into the car.

Kevin calmed down a bit only when they left the city far behind.

Debby’s uncle’s house was really in the wilderness. They drove for seven hours; first it was a big highway then it changed to a country road. At some point Debby said they must leave the car, and walk to the uncle's house on foot. They grabbed suitcases and went through a narrow untrodden path. After fifteen minutes they arrived in front of a huge iron door, protruding from the ground covered in trees. Debby took out a big rusty key and put it into the lock. She turned it, and a loud creaky sound came out from the door. It opened.

“We need to pull it open,” said Debby.

They both were already exhausted, but it was time for the last push. They grabbed the handle, and pulled with all strength. The door opened slowly, making a loud noise in the process. They didn’t open it all the way through, only enough for their entrance. When they passed inside, Kevin started to look for a switch to turn lights on. He found it, and already reached for it, when a loud sound came from back.

BANG!

The last thing Kevin saw was a wall covered with his shadow. After it came complete darkness.

For a minute, there was complete silence in the dark place, hidden in nowhere

Then a woman's voice rang out, “Mr. Smith… I call you for my auntie. You remember her. She was guesting at my house. Now she has left. But the presents she left for me are still here…”

With these words she held a flash drive in the bottom of her handbag.

“That’s all I wanted to say, Mr. Smith.”

After sounds of her steps faded, this place fell into complete silence.

12

In the dark office in the middle of the night, Therense Anderson, was reading papers. After a while he closed the papers with disappointment and took a folder from his drawer. He took out clipped papers from it. He put these papers on the desk, but didn't open them to read, because he knew every word in this document. He started tapping his finger on the desk. Papers were lying under the light of a lamp. In the title was written:

Project “Ascension”.

Las tuberías de acero son comúnmente utilizadas en sistemas contra incendios debido a sus propiedades resistentes y duraderas. Estas tuberías se emplean para la conducción de agua y otros agentes extintores en instalaciones destinadas a combatir incendios. Algunas características y consideraciones relevantes incluyen:

Material y Especificaciones:

Las tuberías de acero utilizadas en sistemas contra incendios suelen cumplir con ciertos estándares y especificaciones, como la norma ASTM A795 para tuberías de acero sin costura recubiertas de zinc.

Es posible que también se utilicen tuberías de acero galvanizado para proporcionar resistencia a la corrosión.

Diámetro y Grosor de Pared:

El diámetro y el grosor de pared de las tuberías dependerán de la capacidad de flujo de agua requerida y de las normativas locales y códigos de construcción.

Instalación y Conexiones:

Las tuberías de acero para sistemas contra incendios deben instalarse según las normativas y códigos de construcción locales, que a menudo especifican la ubicación de las válvulas, conexiones y accesorios necesarios.

Mantenimiento:

Es importante realizar un mantenimiento regular para asegurar que el sistema esté en buen estado de funcionamiento en todo momento. Esto puede incluir inspecciones visuales, pruebas de presión y otros procedimientos definidos por los códigos locales.

Cumplimiento Normativo:

Asegúrate de que el diseño e instalación del sistema de tuberías cumpla con los requisitos normativos y códigos de construcción locales e internacionales.

Capacidad de Flujo y Presión:

Las tuberías deben ser capaces de suministrar la cantidad adecuada de agua a la presión requerida para combatir incendios de manera efectiva.

Resistencia al Fuego:

En algunas aplicaciones, se pueden requerir características específicas de resistencia al fuego para las tuberías. Esto puede variar según el entorno y las regulaciones locales.

Si estás considerando la instalación de tuberías de acero para sistema contra incendios con , es fundamental trabajar con profesionales de la ingeniería y la construcción que estén familiarizados con los códigos y normativas locales para garantizar un diseño e instalación seguros y eficientes.