Short Story #2 – The Digital Connection

First Draft

*untitled*

“The properties that made it so devastating are not well understood.”

When you tune in from your daydreams just long enough to listen to the history of the world in class, you never think the tragedies they describe will return. I’ve been an outsider most of my life; watching catastrophic events unfold on screens instead of on the frontlines. Course, I was too young to remember some things for myself. Unlike most people just above my age, I don’t remember where I was when terrorists changed so many American lives forever in 2001. The event didn’t touch my family like it did millions. So, I was still trained to feel untouchable.

Worldwide pandemics are no stranger in the history of the world. But when society gets far enough removed from the last one, the consciousness forgets the severity of it. When we don’t keep learning from it, history repeats itself until we refresh and act. The H1N1 virus pandemic of 1918 was very real, but I never truly understood that fact until a new influenza virus has returned. This time, it’s destroying us. I knew exactly where I was when each piece of the story unfolded to change the world forever.

***

I’ve always hated the kind of rain that’s barely there. Sprinkling that comes with the beginning of spring. When you’re constantly back and forth about whether to keep on your jacket to keep your clothes from becoming dewy or to shed it because it’s just too warm for two layers of long sleeves. The sun was out this morning so I only brought a hoodie, but the weather can’t be trusted around here. College student’s backpacks should hold half of a wardrobe at all times. Everyone thinks it, but the textbooks we are forced to buy break our back too much to follow through. So, we endure it and settle for complaining.

Usually my introverted personality stands out as I walk to class in this weather. Head down, with one hand pulling the hood of my damp sweatshirt forward to keep my glasses free from droplets which is usually pointless. My other hand usually slides the thumb under my strap to prevent sweat from showing through my shirt. Once I make it across campus to the English building, I strip off my hoodie and wipe the sprinkles off my lenses.

Usually my classes are full of engaged students ready to discuss what we’ve been learning. Today was different. Every person I looked at around the table was glued to their phones, eyebrows furrowed. What were they all reading that I didn’t catch? Our professor sighed as he sat down at the only empty seat once everyone was present. He began teaching as normal, but everyone was distracted; eyes now glued to their laptop screens, scrolling and quickly changing tabs. I was distracted too, but not in the same way. When I couldn’t take the constant buzzing in my pocket anymore, I had to glance down at the notifications.

“BREAKING NEWS. First cases of Corona Virus hit the United States.” Multiple variations of that headline flood the notifications on my news and social media apps. This venture doesn’t last long.

“Everyone off your phones.” Our professor says, snapping all our heads up. He’d lost his last focused student. “I know it’s difficult with what’s happening in the world right now, but we need to focus during the time we have.”

***

“Instruction in all undergraduate programs will move to an online format indefinitely. All residential students will be asked to remove all belongings from the residential halls.”

That was fast. First the mass hysteria was the laughing stalk of social media. Now I have to quit my job and move back into my parent’s house on the edge of civilization? What is happening? I lock my phone and replace it on my makeshift nightstand. After what seems like hours of lying there with my eyes closed pretending to sleep, I give up the charade. Guess I better start packing up my home. I kneel down to haul the large plastic totes out from under my bed to start making a dent on my clothes. When I fill two tubs without making a dent, I move on to kitchen wares. How did I ever acquire this many pointless items that just take up space? Goodwill pile time. I fill a cardboard box with unwanted trinkets to donate before I start the journey back home. Wait. How on Earth am I going to move my whole life three hours away in my tiny sedan? I need help. Come here, phone.

ME: School is closing indefinitely. I need to move back home.

I text her. She reads, but no reply. She must be half asleep since it’s about two in the morning. I’m about to give up when my ringtone interrupts my thoughts.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hi Fortina. When do you need to be out?” My mother’s groggy, yet sweet voice replies on the other end.

“The day after tomorrow, I think.”

“Dad and I will be down tomorrow morning for a load. Then you can bring the rest home when you leave.”

“Thanks, mum.”

“Of course, honey. We can help you pack but do as much as you can.”

“Love you.” Thank god. She always knows what to do.

***

“Control efforts worldwide were limited to non-pharmaceutical interventions such as isolation, quarantine, good personal hygiene, use of disinfectants, and limitations of public gatherings, which were applied unevenly.”

Get home as fast as you can. First case in Portland. Unpack your life into the past life you thought you’d left behind. Search. Why are they hoarding necessities like it’s gold? Others need to protect themselves more. Lockdown. You’ll be arrested if seen in public unless you’re a healthcare professional. This week will see a 9/11-like devastation the news tells us as we try to cope. You can do everything right and the world still plummets. Deaths continue to skyrocket. I can’t take listening to the news anymore. All of this discussion is making my head spin. Everyone’s saying the same things over and over and yet, things won’t stop changing.

I haven’t seen my best friend in person in months. Zara is a Nursing Assistant fresh out of college. Just barely graduated and trained at the local hospital to work in the Emergency Room. I couldn’t believe this exciting time was ruined by the virus. Our last interaction was over Facetime.

“I can’t see you anymore.” She warns us me. I rub my right palm over my heart as it clenches.

“Not ever?

“Well, until this is all over. We’ve had five patients and one nurse now become infected and I cannot expose you too.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. At least I’ll be rich after this.” She jokes to lighten the mood and I give her a weak smile in response. “And skinny. Yesterday’s twelve-hour shift was spent sprinting across the ER. It’s been pretty slow until this week. It was seriously packed. Things are getting worse, Four.”

“I know. I just want things to be normal again. But people can’t listen long enough to stop the spread.”

“Either way, we just need to adapt and do what we can.

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Yeah. I gotta go, though. I don’t have much time to talk to my family before my next shift.”

“Okay. I love you, Zara. Stay safe.”

“I love you too, Four. Wish me luck. We had a patient come in yesterday that was in her 70s super sick. She looked like she was about to die. We suspect she will be out sixth case.”

“Luck.”

***

It’s airborne. Another piece to flood the media. People still don’t stay home but don’t live long enough to regret it. I never talked to Zara again. The virus took her before I could. We should’ve done daily video chats. I’m the only one left in my family. The only positivity we’ve seen in the past year has been a cure. It worked for a couple months but then the ruthless virus became immune to the relief it gave thousands. What now?

The news also informed us about the Corona Victors. They are ultimately a group of people around the world that believe the Corona Virus is the solution to human imperfection. Some sections of the group believe using the virus to keep everyone inside for a few years will completely heal the planet from global warming. This is how they started, seeking betterment of the planet by forcing people to stay inside and off the roads. So, many found the group to be appealing at first. Including me. There was nothing else to do with our lives so, why can’t we get something done that we’ve been fighting for decades.

Enter Alfie Harris. That evil man was pushed up the food chain just as fast as he could snap his manicured fingers. This man was perfect: piercing blue eyes, curly brown locks, athletic build of a hard worker. He represented working class America with his southern charm. At least that’s what he always claimed. His actions became bolder as more people were tricked into giving him their undying trust. Classic politician. He’d always gather people in secret locations in abandoned buildings in order to stay away from the cops.

“I’d work all day for my paycheck and come home to care for my parents. I couldn’t be safe from the disease in my own home. I got sick, but I recovered because of my strong bones.” He’d tell hundreds of loyal Corona Victors over and over. His claims would always begin with this story. “Once the virus took my family, I realized they were holding me back. My success comes now that I don’t have to spend my precious time and energy on the weak.”

“Yeah!” The crowd would cheer around me. How was I only one of the few with a mask on? This wasn’t a typical Corona Victor meeting.

“Join me in spreading this virus to the weaker class so the superior race of humans can finally thrive.” He’d end with a fist in the air, everyone cheering. I remained silent; my eyes glued open wide but I wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Soon the loud cheers began to muffle as my mind filled up. I need to stop this.

***

“Thank you for meeting with me, Lord Harris. It’s an honor.” I give my best fake smile as I sit across from him. It had taken nearly a year to get this close to Alfie Harris so I can’t mess this up.

“Of course. Anything for my young Victors. I understand you’re here for a job?”

“Yes, sir. I applied for your open guard position.”

“Great. Now, what makes you worthy of this position?”

“I’ve been training for this since the beginning, my Lord. Even before you took over, I’ve followed you since March 2020.” That’s when Harris had started collecting followers from inside the original Corona Victors.

It’s now the year 2025 and a lot has happened. Nobody thought the United States could come to this. When our president was forced to resign before Christmas, our government fell. It was a matter of time anyways. I didn’t leave my home for months after that. Many people didn’t. Going outside either meant spreading the virus or getting killed for supplies. Can’t really blame people for getting violent. People will do anything for necessary supplies when they can’t have it. The ease of Target runs didn’t exist anymore. If you weren’t a doctor or nurse, you didn’t work. If the stockpiles were empty, you had to find what you needed another way.

“Right. I recognize you from my abandoned building days. Always so serious.” I nod in response, playing proud follower now.

“Your resume is overwhelmingly impressive. Joined the emergency force in 2020 and quickly rose up to general within a matter of weeks. Important people trust you, I see?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re hired, then. Effective immediately.”

“Great!” Finally.

***

Why is this taking so long? I’m so used to everything moving quickly nowadays. My job protecting the ruler of the New States started two weeks ago and I still can’t access his personal files. It’s because my job is to be glued to his side at all times, making sure nobody gets close enough to even breathe on him. It finally hit me after an hour of his morning writing session yesterday. During this time, it’s just us for an uninterrupted three hours while he works on his books for me to publish once he passes naturally. He has most of the things in his life planned out like this. Every morning he sets aside three hours for this: two of writing and one of napping. This is my chance.

I glance at the clock. I’ve spent enough time counting minutes over the past few years to know it’s 9:00 am on the dot. As expected, Lord Harris calls for me.

“General Fortina, fetch my laptop.” I’m already passing it to him.

“I know what time it is.”

“You’re exceptional, my dear.” Gross. I’ve become more of a companion to him in his mind than a guard. But I go along with it. Once the hour of writing goes by, I’m waiting for his head to nod. It takes him a little longer than usual and I only have an hour and a half to get this done until we will no longer be alone. Once I’m sure he’s fully asleep, I slowly stand up without a sound. He’s always been a light sleeper; rightfully always on edge. But he lets his guard down just for me. Trusts me with his very last shallow breath until SNAP. All my training has paid off in the second it took to snap his neck. My plans fly out the window when the room falls silent. I’ve never killed anyone so I thought this would be harder. Instead, I’m relieved. I don’t think of what happens to me next. As long as his reign ends, I’m happy.

After a few minutes of enjoying the silence, my plans return. I don’t have much time to fulfill my purpose. So, I grab the keys out of his suit pocket and get busy rummaging through each of the many locked drawers and cabinets in his study. Nothing I’m looking for jumps out until the very last one in his desk. An obvious spot I never thought this complex man would put something so valuable. I freeze when I see the vile. There’s no label, but I don’t need it to know what it is. The original cure he’d stolen to make a new one that didn’t work. He’d told me all about it. This little vile was about to save the world. It can’t bring everyone back, but it will keep the human race alive for another decade until the next problem tests the best of us. I shove the vile in my pocket and jump out the window. I’m soon miles away with ten minutes to spare.

Second Draft

*The properties that made it so devastating are not well understood*

Zara hasn’t stopped calling me for weeks. “Get your ass home as fast as you can. The first case in Portland was just announced.”

I’m hesitant to listen to her. I try to ignore the news stories constantly flooding the media outlets I trust. Unpack my life into the past I thought I had left behind? Lock myself inside the house with my nosey parents for an unknown amount of time? Doesn’t sound like a good time. Part of me knows she’s right, though. The country is one more case away from lockdown. My procrastination has served me well up until this point. I’ve ignored the resulting chaos from the pandemic. I’ve held onto my plans for internships and housing I’d formulated months in advance long enough. It’s time. Change is coming whether I like it or not.

The next day was when reality actually hit me. Lockdown. You’ll be arrested if seen in public unless you’re a healthcare professional. This week will see a 9/11-like devastation the news tells us as we try to cope. You can do everything right and the world still plummets. Deaths continue to skyrocket. I can’t take listening to the news anymore. All of this discussion is making my head spin. Everyone’s saying the same things over and over and yet, things won’t stop changing.

Zara calls me three times before I finally pick up the Facetime call.

“I’m driving home right now.”

“You better be. Don’t even think about stopping anywhere.”

“I’m not allowed to pee?” I tease her.

“No. Going in a public bathroom right now is suicide and you know that.” She huffs.

“I know, mom.” I joke.

“Stop. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“I know. You’re the expert. I’ll see you in three hours.”

“Don’t hang up this phone or I’ll make the video of you last summer viral.”

“Fine. I thought you deleted that shit.”

“No way. It’s the only thing allowing me to keep control.” She finally smiles. All I ask for is that she keeps smiling. She does a great job of staying on the surface on her own. But I’m still close enough to lift her up if she falls. The whole drive home is spent laughing about memories we have from before all this mess.

“Remember that one time I fell on my ass at your Nana’s house?” Zara started which made me cackle and struggle to peel my eyes open wide enough to see where I was going.

“Of course. We were watching our show.”

“I went to get popcorn during a commercial break.”

“You always take so long to do anything.”

“When I heard you yell, ‘it’s on,’ I had to run back so I wouldn’t miss anything important.”

“And you slipped in the doorway to the living room and fell so hard.” I could barely breathe so, I had to pull over the car.

“Popcorn everywhere. I had that bruise for weeks.”

“But hey, you didn’t miss the show.”

“True.” It’s nice to hear her laugh again. Police lights in my rearview cuts off our laughter. My heart stops like it always does when those blinding lights show up. Even if I haven’t done anything wrong.

“Shit. I gotta go.” I quickly hang up the phone and toss it in the passenger seat. The officer walks up to my window and gently taps it three times. I meet his icy blue eyes from over my dark frames and roll the window down. His face mask muffles his voice, but it still rumbles the glass. I place my hands on each of my thighs and squeeze.

“What are you doing out today, miss?”

“I’m driving home from college, sir.”

“How far are you from home?”

“About an hour? I stopped to answer a phone call, but I was about to leave when you pulled up.” I explain quickly, my words jumping out the window. He takes off his glasses to ask me for my license and registration even though my violations aren’t related to traffic.

“I’m afraid I’m obligated to give you a ticket for endangering yourself and the public during lockdown.” His words make my throat tighten, but I hold my breath just long enough for him to send me a digital ticket and drive away. The polite charade I’d put on for the officer fades and I hurry home. Then, I’m pulled inside and shoved into my bedroom for the rest of the night.

***

When Zara calls me back the next morning, it’s just routine to me. I answer with a soft smile on my face.

“Good morning, hun. Sorry I hung up on you yesterday. I got a ticket for being outside.” I groan, rolling my eyes. But she just looks at me, her mouth stuck in a perfect straight line. That look never means anything good so, I furrow my brows. Her normally organized curls are brushed out and tangled. Normally, she’s all done up before she calls.

“I can’t make it to lunch on Saturday.” She sighs. I tilt my head and shake it side to side.

“Really, Z? You promised I’d be able to see you.”

“The emergency room is overflowing with infected patients and nurses. I can’t expose you.” Her tone makes my fists tighten.

“What? You need to quit. This is getting out of hand. I need to see you in person soon.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m young and strong. At least I’ll be rich after this.” She jokes to lighten the mood but then bursts into a coughing fit. I give her a weak smile in response, sitting up. “And skinny. Yesterday’s twelve-hour shift was spent sprinting across the ER. It’s been pretty slow until this week. It was seriously packed.”

“I know. I just want things to be normal again. But people can’t listen long enough to stop this.”

“Either way, we just need to adapt and do what we can.

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Yeah. I gotta go, though. I don’t have much time to talk to my family before my next shift.”

“Okay. I love you, Zara. Stay safe.”

“I love you too, Fortuna. Wish me luck. We had a patient come in yesterday that was in her 70s super sick. She looked like she was about to die.”

“That’s scary. Good luck.”

***

“Control efforts worldwide were limited to non-pharmaceutical interventions such as isolation, quarantine, good personal hygiene, use of disinfectants, and limitations of public gatherings, which were applied unevenly.”

“Never say good luck because it’s a pointless waste of your breath. Luck can’t save you.” Vixie always had a unique way of comforting us Victors. We chose her to be our leader because she makes sure to keep our minds out of the clouds. It’s easy to slip into that mindset nowadays but we all know how important it is to have the Victors understand our reality at all times. I joined the Victors two months ago when I met Vixie in the hospital waiting room. She brought some light to the darkest time of my life.

“Hey there, child. You look like you could use one of these.” Vixie’s southern drawl warmed me just enough to slow my spiral. I looked up at her slowly, seeing a tall woman with a black crewcut. She holds a blanket out to me but when I don’t take it, she wraps it around me after sitting next to me. “Comfort you didn’t know you needed, right? That’s my job.” Vixie offered a smile next and I finally responded with a nod. “Sharing will help even more. We all share in the Victors.”

“Victors?” I whisper, my throat aching.

“You haven’t heard on the news? We are a new group of citizens that are working to improve the planet during the pandemic.”

“The planet? What about the people?” I huff, sitting up more. How can these people

“What the virus has been doing to families is horrible. The Victors seek to comfort those who are losing loved ones and keep others from going outside.”

“So, what do you do?”

“We ultimately act as a neighborhood watch to keep people inside their homes and protected. We also have members who work to improve the planet and reverse global warming and pollution as well.”

“Why are you here talking to me, then? I just lost the last person I care about.” My voice cracks and I lose the authority that was keeping my walls up around me. I have to blink hard to keep the floodgates at bay.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did she work here?”

“Yes. Nurse’s Assistant. My best friend, Zara.”

“What happened to her can’t be reversed, but you can use her story to help others. Join us.”

“Sure. Why not? I got nothing else to live for.” I shrug, bottling my emotions away for later. Zara wouldn’t want to see me crumble because of her.

“Great. Welcome aboard Victor- I don’t believe I got your name.”

“Fortuna.”

“Victor Fortuna.”

***

“Victor Alfie. Welcome to the Victors.” I chimed as I sat on the same hospital floor Vixie had found me on. This time I was in her place and Alfie Harris was in mine. He was in the same place, but he wasn’t crying or sad like I was. He had a plain expression which I’d assumed was just the toxic masculinity way of dealing with trauma. I soon learned that I was bad at reading people.

A few weeks after meeting Alfie, I learned who he really was. That gave him just enough time to learn our routines in the Victors. As Vixie’s right hand man, I always guarded her tent on Sundays while she slept. She chose Sundays to sleep every week because it was the lord’s day of rest, she’d say. It was the middle of the night on the second Sunday Alfie was with us and his job for the week was waste clean-up. That was always done at night and took many hours. So, I was confused to see him walking up to Vixie’s tent.

“What’s up, Alfie? Did you get that village cleaned up already?” I asked with raised brows. He gave me a wide grin that sent chills down my spine so, I stood up.

“Nope. I have a more important job to get done.” His hands came out from behind his back. He was holding something, but I couldn’t see it since his fists were balled around it.

“What are you doing, Alfie? You job was waste pickup. You know we all have to pull our weight around here.” I warned him, stepping closer. What happened next happened too fast for me to react until it was too late. He kneeled down and spit a dart into my arm from a smoothie straw. I glanced down at the dart for a millisecond and my eyes widened when I realized what it was. Tranquilizer dart. Soon, I started losing control of my muscles. I stepped towards Alfie but I was on the ground just as fast.

“It’s my turn to lead.” Alfie laughed, stepping over me to go into Vixie’s tent. I tried to scream out to warn her, but no sound came out. All I could do was lay there in a useless pile. I snapped my eyes shut in response to the muffed screams coming from Vixie’s tent. Soon, there was deafening silence that made my heart pound. I opened my eyes to let the ocean of tears out only to see what Aflie had done to my Vixie. He just let her body fall into the river to be washed away. My mouth fell open as I tried to scream out for help but all I could muster were grunts. I was powerless again. Alfie kneeled down again to get close to my ear. I wanted to spit in his piercing blue evil eyes.

“If any of you ever question my power or try to overthrow me, I will kill you all.” He whispered. Then he just walked away into the darkness, leaving Vixie and me behind.

***

“The properties that made it so devastating are not well understood.”

Alfie Harris ruined the Victors. That evil man was pushed up the food chain just as fast as he could snap his manicured fingers. After he killed our leader, that man created a hard shell to wear to deceive the public. To them, he was now the perfect leader of the Victors: piercing blue eyes, curly brown locks, athletic build of a hard worker. He represented working class America with his southern charm. At least that’s what he always claimed. His actions became bolder as more people were tricked into giving him their undying trust. Classic politician. He kept a few Victors to the old ways to keep suspicion away. However, most of us were moved to meet his new agenda to spread the virus.

“I’d work all day for my paycheck and come home to care for my parents. I couldn’t be safe from the disease in my own home. I got sick, but I recovered because I’m strong.” He’d tell hundreds of loyal Victors over and over. His claims would always begin with this story. “Once the virus took my family, I realized they were holding me back. My success comes now that I don’t have to spend my precious time and energy on the weak.”

“Yeah!” The crowd would cheer around me. This man had taken the only light and purpose left in my life and suffocated it.

***

“Thank you for meeting with me, Lord Harris. It’s an honor.” I give my best fake smile as I sit across from him. In order to keep my position in the Victors, I had to act like I’d forgotten all about that night. I had to completely betrayed Vixie. It had taken nearly a year to get this close to Alfie Harris so I can’t mess this up.

“Of course. Anything for such a loyal Victor. I understand you’re here for a promotion?”

“Yes, sir. I applied for your open guard position.”

“Great. Now, what makes you worthy of this position?”

“I’ve been training for this since the beginning of your time in the Victors, my Lord. I protected our previous leader until the end of her reign, as you know.”

It’s now the year 2025 and a lot has happened. Nobody thought the United States could come to this. When the president of our country was mysteriously disappeared before Christmas, our government fell. Everyone was desperate and looked to Harris for guidance.

“Right. You’ve been a reliable member of the Victors for some time now.” He says and we both nod. I’m playing proud follower now.

“Your resume is overwhelmingly impressive. You have a reputation of being easily trusted by leaders, I see?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re hired, then. Effective immediately.”

“Great!” Finally.

***

Why is this taking so long? I’m so used to everything moving quickly nowadays. My job protecting the new ruler started two weeks ago and I still can’t access his personal files. It’s because my job is to be glued to his side at all times, making sure nobody gets close enough to even breathe on him. It finally hit me after an hour of his morning writing session yesterday. During this time, it’s just us for an uninterrupted three hours while he works on his books for me to publish once he passes naturally. He has most of the things in his life planned out like this. Every morning he sets aside three hours for this: two of writing and one of napping. This is my chance.

I glance at the clock. I’ve spent enough time counting minutes over the past few years to know it’s 9:00 am on the dot. As expected, Lord Harris calls for me.

“General Fortuna, fetch my laptop.” I’m already passing it to him.

“I know what time it is.”

“You’re exceptional, my dear.” Gross. I’ve become more of a companion to him in his mind than a guard. But I go along with it. Once the hour of writing goes by, I’m waiting for his head to nod. It takes him a little longer than usual and I only have an hour and a half to get this done until we will no longer be alone. Once I’m sure he’s fully asleep, I slowly stand up without a sound. He’s always been a light sleeper; rightfully always on edge. But he lets his guard down just for me. Trusts me with his very last shallow breath until SNAP. All my hard work following this vile man has paid off in the second it took to snap his neck. My plans fly out the window when the room falls silent. I’ve never killed anyone so I thought this would be harder. Instead, I’m relieved. I don’t think of what happens to me next. As long as his reign ends, I’m happy.

Revision Strategy

I chose my second short story because I felt like it had the most potential moving forward. The content was interesting to me and I was excited to develop it into a more cohesive short story. Receiving feedback was quite interesting to me because it made me look back on the scope and genre of my story. I learned that the scope of a short story has to be isolated enough to not overwhelm the reader. The first draft of my story had a lot of things happen over a span of many years and my time jumps were larger than they probably should’ve been. So, in revision I wanted to really focus on shortening the scope of my story in order to make it fit into a shorter time frame. By doing this, I cut out the beginning parts where I was talking about everything that came before the virus itself. I cut that down to just a little bit because I felt like it would make more sense to focus more on the apocalyptic future aspect and flesh that out more. Another comment I got for revision was that the content of the story was much too close to what was happening today. I agreed with this and I wanted to make the story more fictional. So, I altered the name of the virus and the group in the story to be more vague. Finally, I also wanted to focus more on the characters and revealing things through dialogue. With the genre of literary fiction, the story should be focused on the characters themselves and their behavior that results from events around them. Looking back, I was focusing a lot on what was happening on the world itself instead of how the characters were reacting and dealing. So, I tried to change some things here and there to adopt that genre into my piece.