A glass wall stood. Tall. Dividing two worlds. One half contained a small room, completely empty. The walls and floor were white, and the only thing in the room was a bed and a rocking chair. The rocking chair was old and worn. Its hemming was frayed, and the seat had seen better days. But it had the most beautiful woven design on it. It was a vivid red with golden elephants adorning the seat of the chair. It was painted a once-glossy black that is now chipping. The elephants had coverings of violet, auburn, and sky blue. The colors contrasted and yet went together so nicely. The way the elephants were scattered made it look as if they were running. The chair was breathtaking, and yet broken. One of the legs snapped in half on the base, and it didn’t rock anymore. On The Other Side was a laboratory with the most advanced lab equipment available in 2056. This was desperately needed. A deadly illness called the Klex broke out in Mississippi and was spreading like wildfire. A cure was critical for the human race, and this observatory was close to finding the cure. Or so they thought. . .

The man had his arm arched over his bed, as though he was hugging someone. Then, he sat up. His eyes were closed. They always were. He walked over to the right corner of the room and began to “make breakfast.” He grabbed the “eggs” out of the “fridge” and began to crack, stir, and cook the imaginary breakfast. It was the most peculiar sight, all of his hand motions were so convincing, but there was just a man. No cooking supplies. Just the man, the bed, and the rocking chair. . .

“Oo! He’s waking up!” One of the new observers said excitedly, this was her first time observing an Alzheimer’s strand 4 patient.

“Oh calm down Bee,” one of the senior observers said, “You’ll be bored soon. It’s been the same darn routine over and over again for months now.”

He’s just old. Much too old to understand the scientific importance of all this. “Oh be quiet!” She scolded, “He’s in the corner now anyways. . .he’s he’s. . .” She studied the man and watched him for a few moments, taking it all in. “He’s making breakfast!” She declared, proud of her observation.

“Yes. Yes he is,” the other observer replied, “look. Next he’s going to sit on his rocking chair and eat. . .and talk to. . . his ‘wife,’” He said with no emotion.

The young observer called Bee turned her head in awe. Sure enough, the man sat down on his broken chair and proceeded to talk. It was the strangest thing, just hearing half of this conversation.

“Here you go.”

“Why yes, that evening with all the bacon was most interesting.”

Bee felt like an intruder. These snippets were very strange. Her forehead crinkled as she took it all in: The man, a Klex victim, overtaken by mental illness, talking to thin air. As she pondered this, the old observer sat back, half asleep. He was so uninterested, so unbothered by the whole event. This startled Bee but she immersed herself in the man’s routine. She watched him mime making breakfast, sitting on his chair, vacuuming, sitting on his chair, making lunch, sitting on his chair, going on the computer, and then finally eating and going to bed. It was pretty much an average day of an elderly man. It was the strangest thing Bee had ever witnessed in her short, 25 year life.

***

“Thank god we bought coffee,” Bee said, “I’m so tired!”

“Yeah!” her new co worker said with too much pep. Bee’s old supervisor had been replaced with a very, very young intern. Unfortunately, the intern was as intelligent as she was old. Bee has been working at the observatory for 2 years now, so much time had passed since she had first observed the man. Her old supervisor had fallen ill, yet another victim to the Klex. He is being held in the holding area, along with all of the other Klex patients. The observatory kept the ill sedated, one on top of another. There were over one hundred full rooms fully dedicated to Klex.

“But isn’t all of this just horrible” Bee said slowly and clearly, hoping to breach the intellectual barrier between her and the intern. “I mean, imagine that, repeating a single day of your life over and over again, no matter where you are. Mindlessly, like animals! And it’s like you aren’t even there! You’re gone. As good as dead!”

“Omigosh,” she slurred, “I know right, like those poor people like come on like they’re like dead weight like omigod!”

Bee was disgusted. One out of every two people were subject to the Klex virus, and God chose her to be immune. A mindless, lazy person that lives off of their parents! Well that’s just how Klex works, she thought sadly. It’s all about the luck. It’s all luck. . .

“Come on!” The intern said, “we just missed him vacuuming! That’s my favorite part, I love how realistic it looks. Like all that’s missing is the vacuum.”

“Oh calm down, it’s the same darn routine over and over again.” Bee found herself parroting her predecessor.

“I know but it’s still interesting, I especially like the rocking chair. It’s kinda like the old man in a way; it’s always in motion, worn out, a bit broken, and yet so interesting and intriguing. Omg it’s like my car,” The intern said, proud of her elementary comparison.

Bee was astounded the intern had come up with something like that. Whilst snorting at the “like my car” statement, she thought and thought about the rocking chair. After several minutes, the Yale graduate decided that it was much more complicated than the intern put it. She decided the rocking chair was society. The screwed up society she lives in: broken, all she has, and yet, everyone relies on it day after day. Our entire lives are based around it. There! Let that vain, incompetent intern ponder that! She thought wistfully. She continued to think about the old man and rocking chair outside of work. Rocking chair. . .luck. . .Klex. . . these words swirled in her mind for hours. Days. They consumed her very existence.

***

“Here, I’ve got my bag, we can walk out now,” Bee said to her co-worker Matt.

“Okay,” Matt replied, “You know what. I’m fed up! Klex is horrible! You don’t know when you’re infected by it, you just wake up one day in a trance and repeat and repeat,” Matt stopped, smiling weakly, “I can go on and on, as you can see I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“It’s okay, so have I,” Bee said solemnly, “it’s hard working in a place like this.”

Matt let out a breath, “One more thing, doesn’t it just bother you that Klex is subject to any ages; it’s a strand of Alzheimer’s! Once only affecting people over the age of 60! Now, two year olds! Two year olds!”

“I know,” Bee replied softly, “I know.”

Bee and Matt had been in a steady relationship for almost a year now. They were meant for each other. Bee’s strawberry blonde hair matched that of Matt’s, they were both thoughtful, ridiculously intelligent, and more importantly were both immune to the Klex. Or so they thought. . .

***

After three years of painfully slow repetition . .

The observatory had gotten nowhere. They hadn’t gathered any information, and by now the entire staff knew the man’s routine by heart, including the entire janitorial staff. They decided to hold a meeting to determine what to do with Gabriel Gineaouv. The rocking chair in Gabriel’s room was still broken. Another bottom rung was damaged, hanging on by a thread, about to snap. The committee decided they needed to do something with the old man and rocking chair. The consensus was that they were to take the rocking chair out of the room, fix it and to see if any change was to occur.

***

He lay on his bed. Looking at empty space, seeing what was not there. Seeing what hasn’t been there for 5 years. Seeing his wife in his small, countryside cottage. In reality, there was only a bed. A lone bed and empty space. Lots of empty space. He was alone. Obliviously sleeping, arm around an imaginary someone. The man sat up. He walked to the corner of the room and mimed making breakfast. Yet again he was talking to thin air. He settled into his hallucinatory routine. But, as the routine calls, he went to sit down on his rocking chair. He fell with a klunk. The patients’ eyes widened in realization, and Patient X swung his legs up off the ground acting as though he’s afraid he’s going to fall off his small corner of the universe. One leg at a time, he slowly walks to every corner of his 80×100 living space. At first, he eases his arms around, looking for something. Someone. With every swipe, his eyes grew wider. He began to shake. He violently chopped thin air. His eyes widened, his mouth opened to a full fledged scream of terror. “ANNA.” That one word was filled with so much compassion and longing. Patient X then fell to the floor. His head hit solid concrete with a slam.

***

“Beep. . . . . . beep. . . . . . . .beep,” the heart rate monitor in the observatory slowed to a stop. One of the observers was walking back from her unauthorized coffee break as happy as can be. She had strawberry blonde hair, and a new engagement ring bestowed on her finger. Her husband, Matt, had proposed to her this morning; he was also a doctor in the observatory wing of the Klex hospital. She had just gotten engaged, and was carefree. For the first time in her career, she wasn’t observing the patient and keeping track of his vitals when she was on duty. She had just gotten engaged. She wasn’t thinking about work, she was thinking about Matt; Matt and Bee forever together. That was more than enough to distract her. She was overly joyful, when she walked she pranced. When she talked she sang. Alas, none of this mattered because she was about to lose her job, as was her husband. Her entire life’s work was in shambles. But, oblivious of the chaos ahead, she gleefully walked past the room just as the last beep rang out.

“NURSE!” she screamed

But it was no use. Patient X was already dead.

***

Westhill Hospital

1444 Mirage Lane

New Hampshire 01165

Patient Examination Form:

Patient name: Gabriel Ginaouv

Age: 65

Height/weight: 5′ 7, 140 lbs

Illness: hallucinatory strand of Alzheimer’s (Klex)

Notes: Patient hallucinated every day for 5 years. This was the same hallucination. Gabriel walked and talked as though he shared his room with another person. As other Alzheimer’s strand 4 Patients, Gabriel maintained his height, weight and complexion. He did not have any symptoms other than the hallucinations.

Cause of death: Shock, shattered skeletal tissue, and broken neck

Cure: Not found

***

An intern sat and watched, taking notes on the new patient. The young woman with the strawberry blonde hair walked from one corner to another, then stopped and took a turn. As she walked, she waved to the air, talking chirpily. She mimed making coffee, and then again took many turns. She had a wide smile on her face. The woman peeked around a “corner” and screamed. “NURSE!”

The unintelligent intern began to giggle.“Omigosh,” she said, “like that’s, that’s like, that’s her.”

***

It’s a shame all that’s left of the human population are fools. Dead weight and mindless creatures.