Catherine Pierce had never hated anything more.  She had been so happy, with a loving family, and a good job. She'd been a doctor, before The Sickness had stripped that all away from her.  It made her see red, to think of this illness that she had no idea how to fight.

Apparently, it had started slowly. Only a few people started to succumb to the disease, the monster in their brains.  The more people succumbed to it, the more it spread. Her mother and father both fell victim to it, leaving Catherine and her sister, Elenora, all alone.  Poor little Elenora isolated herself, terrified of the illness. Catherine hadn't seen her since.

Catherine was twenty three years old when the end of the world came. The disease had spread to nearly everyone, and Catherine found out her sister had been taken the the sickness. For the first time in a while, Catherine had cried. She cried for her mom, her dad, her sister, and all the lives taken by the disease. Catherine hated the disease more than anything else.

And she promised herself that she would find a way to stop it.  Even if she didn't know how it started, or why, or how she would study it before her inevitable death, she promised herself that she would cure it, even if it cost her her life.  She hoped it wouldn't come to that.

She started packing a bag.  She couldn't carry too much stuff, but she would need certain things.  A change of clothes, a brush, and some soap came from her smallish bedroom.  She glanced at the picture of her and her family, and wordlessly dropped it in the bag too.  In her more spacious kitchen, she grabbed some non-perishable food and plenty of water, and, more hesitantly, a large, sharp knife.  She had a feeling that she would need it, and tucked the knife into one of her belt loops. 

In the bathroom, Catherine took a look at herself in the mirror.  Her short, chin-length brown hair framed her pale face, and her her deep, dark blue eyes were large, with dark bags underneath.  She wore a dark blue tank top, and some lighter blue jeans, with her knife hanging out of one loop.  Her finger were long and thin, and she was tall.  She remembered teasing Elenora about how short she was.  How she wished she could go back to those days, where the end on the world wasn't upon them, and everyone she loved wasn't dead.

Sighing, Catherine exited the simple bathroom, and got out of the house filled with memories.  She started walking, and didn't look back.