Change My Atmosphere (part 2)

    Like I said before, no one really talks to me anymore, not since the disease. So I'm somewhat surprised when I'm actually spoken to.
    Even though it's basically the end of the world, believe it or not, there are still places to eat around here. I wasn't lying when I said people were trying to rebuild. Sure, it's no Olive Garden, but Burger King sure beats eating out of cans. It seems that, before the disease broke out, most of these teens worked in fast food places. I order a burger and a bottle of water and try to find a seat. I brush some dirt off of the table (apparently, they don't care much about cleanliness here) and sit to eat my meal. I'm about to bite into my burger when someone slides onto the bench across from me.
    "Um-" I start, but stop when I notice he's staring at me rather intently.
    "Yes?" I ask.
    "You don't happen to be named Kaitlin, do you?"
I blink at him like "are you kidding me" and slowly nod. He smiles brightly and says, "Kay, right?"
I shrug. "And you are-?"
Then it hits me.
    "Jason Sera? From eighth grade? Wow, that was forever ago, wasn't it."
I just nod and try to start eating when he says, "So, whatcha been up to?"
    "Look," I say, "I'm really just here for a meal, okay?"
He nods. "Okay."
Like most people, I can't eat while people are staring at me. "I spend most of my time here in New York, believe it or not."
    "Really? And here, you were always talking about wanting to get out, see the world."
    "Hm. Yeah, I was, wasn't I."
I don't really want to see a world that has no people in it.
I take a bite out of my burger and Jason speaks again. "Anyway, I've been around. Mostly D.C and stuff like that. The White House is pretty boring, believe it or not."
    "Is it."
    "Yeah."
He keeps talking and this gives me a chance to finish my meal. When I do, I ball up my wrapper and stand. "Well, it was good seeing you again. Bye."
He jumps up after me. "Wait, Kay."
I look back at him. He's frowning now.
    "Is it just you, now?" He asks sincerely.
I shrug. He nods once and says, "Well, if I'm in the area, can I call you?"
What am I supposed to say to that? That I prefer being alone? I think it's better than dealing with an empty world? I surprise myself when I say, "Sure".

Change My Atmosphere

     I sit on the roof of an eight story office building looking over the streets of the big NYC. On an ordinary night, cars would be on the road, honking and quarreling in their own way. People would be standing on the sidewalks, signalling taxis or chatting with a friend or  trying to drown out the world altogether. I used to do this. I would walk these streets with ear buds in, lost in the world of music. I was fifteen then, young enough to still wonder about the world, old enough to be annoyed with the people in it. Now, I kinda wished I'd payed more attention to it.
     Last year, around June, the disease broke out. At first, it only affected adults and seemed to spread slowly, so no one worried about it much. Then the children became infected, and they dropped like bombs. The strongest lived maybe a month or two. Months were spent on finding a cure, and even in the end, when one was found, there wasn't enough for everyone. The adults looked to the teenagers, those who were still young but mature, able to, perhaps, save our planet. A good number of teens around the world took the antidote, and each had to watch their families suffer while they stood by, unaffected. This is what happened to me. I tried, once again, to go into my little world, but that didn't work at the time.
     Now, there's just us. Some have begun to start plantations and such, trying to rebuild Earth. Me? I don't care, much, anymore. What affect would I have on this new universe? No one has asked me for help. No one has even spoken to me. My friends are gone. They were already infected when the cure was found. I watched them leave, too.
I don't see why anything matters anymore.
      The song I'm listening to ends, and another soon starts up after it.
      "This city never sleeps but it sure knows how to sleep tonight."
   "You got that right," I say softly, my voice being carried with a gust of wind. I stare down into the streets, where tornadoes of paper and trash build and fall. A couple kids walk among the twisters, weaving their way around cars and garbage cans and mailboxes. I watch them walk away, and for a nanosecond think about calling down to them. I don't, and instead look off to my right, where the sun is slowly dipping behind a wall of skyscrapers. Of all the many changes; the grass and plants dying, the colors turning to grey, the lack of happiness and joy and humanity, the sun stays the same. Always.