Chapter 4

The stench in the house is overbearing. The early morning sun dances across piles of trash, and dirty dishes on the floor.A cockroach scuttles across old pizza boxes, and half eaten sandwiches on the floor. On a ripped couch, an island in a sea of filth, lays a young man. It looks as though he hasn't bathed in weeks, perhaps years. He is snoring loudly; a muted holoscreen in the corner is showing some kind of ridiculous daytime game show. There is a jangle of keys outside of the door on the far side of the living room and the man jolts into an upright position. Muted voices talk cheerily outside the door. The man springs into action, grabbing the holoscreen and a bag in the corner, and leaps through the broken glass on the open back door, cutting his arm on the broken glass in the process.

The front door opens and a cheery real estate agent takes in the scene in horror. The man and woman behind her coughing in disgust, the woman closes the door and turns to her clients.

"I am so sorry, we do have a problem with squatters in this neighborhood, but you gotta admit, the place does have potential!"

The man slows to a walk a few blocks from the house, holding his heavily bleeding arm. The cut is deep. He spots a bench up ahead and sits down, trying to staunch the bleeding as best he can, but he has already lost a lot of blood. There is a scream as a young woman passing by notices the blood. The young man has begun to loose consciousness. The woman kneels down in front of him.

"Sir, Sir, are you alright?" She asks.

He can barely understand her.

"Sir, you need to stay awake, the ambulance will be here any second"

The young man hears that and tries to move.

"No ambulance, no hospital." He mumbles, she pushes him back against the cold hard wood of the bench.

"Sir you've lost a lot of blood already, you wont make it if I don't get you to the hospital." In the distance, the young man hears the wail of the siren, right before he looses consciousness.