A/N: Welcome to Dose! This is a story written by myself AND RaelynCrasher . We hope you enjoy!

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"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." -Edgar Allan Poe

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Dark eyes stare back at me through the dirty mirror. Are my pupils dilated, or is that their normal size? Are my eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, or the disease? Does my hair look thinner?

I tear my gaze away from my reflection and scrutinize the inside of my forearm. Black veins and pale skin are two telltale signs of NVI. My arm looks fine to me, but maybe that's the insanity beginning to creep in. Already, I've had minor hallucinations: distorted faces, shadowy figures, and—probably the most upsetting—on occasion I see my dad's face instead of my own in the mirror. Those sunken brown eyes staring straight into my soul.

I shudder, dreading the very thought. Insanity is the stage I fear the most; the stage where the victim's mind isn't their own. Everyone knows a victim of NVI. We've all heard the awful things they say when they near the end.

It's only a matter of days—hours, even—before I succumb to the same fate. The wretched disease has already claimed the lives of half the world's previous population; I'm going to be just another statistic.

I avoid looking into the mirror as I exit my small washroom, grabbing my relay off the counter. I start dialing my mom's number before I have a chance to stop myself. Two rings later and I hear a soft "Ambrosia? Is that you?"

My throat closes up. What do I tell her? The truth is out of the question. She'd tell me to go to the Ward. But if I went there I'd have to explain everything... and that's impossible.

"Honey, are you there?"

After clearing the lump in my throat, I manage, "Yeah, I'm here. Can I come over?"

At least then I can see them all one last time.

The warm "Of course, honey," from the other line fills me with relief, and tears sting the backs of my eyes.

"Okay. I love you. All of you." I choke out, then hit the END button. As much as I want to talk to my family, I can't do it on the relay. I need to see them in person. As soon as possible.

I change out of my lounging clothes and into the standard jeans and black t-shirt, tying the government-issued sweatshirt around my waist. While it's rare for it to get cold outside anymore, nighttime can drop as low as 60 degrees. My mother's words about 'chilly weather speeding up a cold' chase away my apprehension to the extra padding. While I don't think a sweatshirt will stop this sickness from progressing through my body, it can help ease my racing mind.

That is if I can manage to keep the hallucinations at bay.

I stuff my relay into the right side pocket of my jeans. Years ago, pants had pockets in the back. This always perplexed me. I have no idea why anyone would want to sit on the items they store. Relays aren't cheap these days.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step out into the empty corridor beyond my small apartment unit. My heartbeat quickens.

The Testing Admins are standing guard by the entrance, stiff as ever. Any other week and I wouldn't be concerned with the menacing officers, but this time is different. I can only pray that my veins haven't turned that dreaded dark shade.

I try to slow my breathing as I approach the two officials. One is a man, slight of build and wearing a long white coat. I think he is wearing corrective lenses, but his facial features are swirling around too much for me to be certain. The other is a woman, dressed in combat pants, a serious-looking vest, and black boots. A sentry. I can't even make out the color of her eyes.

The man smiles at me—at least, I think he's smiling—and gestures to a small metal chair that has been bolted to the floor. I take a seat, clasping my sweaty hands together in my lap.

"Follow the light with your eyes, no head movements," the man says kindly. He holds up a small light and I nervously follow its path. Sweat beads into my lashes. I attempt to keep my breathing steady as his eyes bore into mine. Worry strikes as I study the man from the corner of my vision. Is his brow furrowed from concentration, or does he know?

The light clicks off, and he says, "Hold out your left arm, please." His voice is the same even tone as before. I do not know whether that is a good sign or a bad one. I do as he says, hoping he doesn't notice my entire body is quivering.

He presses on a few spots, studying my arm for an agonizingly long minute before he releases it. In one swift motion, he grabs a clipboard from the counter behind him and clicks open the pen attached to it.

"What's your name and residential number?"

Now you've done it, Ambrosia. He's going to report you. You're going to be detained, and you're going to have to explain.

I want to refuse, but I know the alternative is worse- it's the reason there is a sentry right in front of me.

My mouth is dry, and it takes several tries before I croak out, "Ambrosia Torrez. Number 14."

The man nods as he scribbles on his paper. I sit stiff in my seat, awaiting his next order. The man raises his brow and sends a puzzled look my way.

"Oh, you can go, Ambrosia. It's just a routine check. You're all set, as usual."

I just stare at him, dumbfounded. I've passed? How is that possible? I haven't taken my medicine in five days.

"Unless you want to stay," the sentry growls.

"No!" I say quickly, jumping up from the chair. "I'm going now... thank you."

I scurry out the door in a daze, the warm evening breeze ruffling my brown curls. It's only a few blocks to the Communal Center, where my mother and siblings live, but the thoughts invading my mind make the walk seem a lot longer.

I try to distract myself by counting the cracks in the sidewalk, but there is no escaping the effects of NVI.

As if my mind enjoys the torture, my vision wanders from the safe path and into the streets. People are staring at me, and each of them with my father's eyes. They watch me and calculate every step I make. My breathing is rapid as I speed up my pace.

Pulling my sweatshirt tighter around my waist, I try to think happy thoughts. I try to think of my family. Naomi, Tommy, Sidney... Will they even care when it ravages my body and leaves me an empty shell?

Sidney will care, I know it. I can always go to her when I'm upset. I just hope she understands.

The streets are busy today as people file into their respective lines. I've heard stories of large metal vehicles that used to carry people to and from places, and I'm glad the government got rid of them. Since we only ever travel within our respective cities, the need for a motorized vehicle is little to none. I don't think I would be able to ride in one if I could; I would be too scared.

I continue on the rightmost path as I avoid the stares. I could have sworn the man in front of me is walking backward. It takes a second glance to realize it's my mind playing games with me once again. The man's firm black suit taunts me as I trudge forward.

I am relieved to stand in front of the Communal Center, in which identical boxy houses spread out over the span of a square mile. I reach for my relay to notify my mom as I walk up to the large gates that isolate the commune. A quick tap of the button and the message is sent.

I will have to wait outside the gates for Sidney to come and get me since the sentries never let outsiders in without reason or family ties. Mom isn't able to come, and my other two siblings are too young.

I tap my foot impatiently, hanging my head low, and studying the sidewalk. I barely register the sound of the gates swinging open, lost am I, inside my own mind.

"Amby!" A voice squeals, and I almost fall backward as Sidney tackles me with a hug. I can't help but smile.

"Hey, Sid! How's it going? How's mom?"

My sister steps out of my embrace suddenly, and my smile disappears as fast as it had come. "Not very good. I think she misses you. We all do."

My heart twinges at Sidney's big brown eyes. They remind me of dad's, and I'm not even hallucinating. At least, I don't think I am.

"But how about you, huh?" Sidney asks me, lacing her fingers with mine and leading me through the gates. We walk on the left path, following the neatly painted lines. "How've you been? I know you've been really busy-"

"Sid-" I try to interject.

"-But you've just gotta make time to visit more often, because we all really-"

"Sidney!" I say, sharply. She cuts off abruptly, and her startled gaze finds mine.

Her eyes change instantly. She realizes that something is wrong.

Very wrong.

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A/N:

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-Alyssa Ryan & RaelynCrasher

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