[ WP ] You have n't eaten an apple in years , the doctors are after you . They 're not sure how you 've done it , and they want you dead as your existence threatens the demand for their genetically modified apples .

“ HUNGRY FOR APPLES! ” 
 
 The noise echoed through the dull grey streets as people hurried below. 
 
 “ HOW ABOUT THEM APPLES! ” 
 
 A splash of colour washed over the street as several floating apples hovered above. Several shades of red and green flashed across the street below. Four scantily clad men were projected onto the road and cars below, wearing only hollowed out apples. A few of the people stood and ogled at the images, getting jostled by the people around them as they stood slack jawed. Tourists. The lights and pastel colours began to recede and the the greyscale of the street below flooded back in. Three high pitches whistles followed, whilst an altogether more feminine voice came across the speakers: 
 
 “ And remember, an apple a day keeps the doctors away ”. 
 
 The people below became even more silent during this announcement and several people looked around almost guiltily. Almost on cue an ambulance came round the corner, hovering a good 10 meters above the road, spotlights casting huge shadows against the buildings, making everyone look conspiratorial. I sank back further into the alcove as they came by, the light bar on top of the ambulance casting light up onto the window sills around me making it seem like they had bites taken out of them. I curved my spine against the wall to stay in my bite mark as the ambulance continued on down the street. It rounded another corner and I sat patiently as the street took on its own life again. People shuffled on. I heard the distant clang of a core bin. Not so common anymore, but in a poor area like this there's still some. Then the sound I'd been waiting for. A much closer clang of a core bin and then the deep “ vump ” of the bag being closed. I counted to 20 under my breath before gently standing up. I leant my body against the metal grating across the window whilst reaching for the stalk. With a satisfying click I felt the window give way. 
 
 I felt myself knocked off my feet as the window tilted forward and I fell face first through the opening whilst it spun on its axis. I landed in a crumble on some boxes a metre below the window. I scrambled to my feet, feeling the lids of several boxes crumble beneath me. My legs became trapped in a menagerie of scarves and tights, which I haphazardly attempted to pull off myself. 
 
 Eventually I unwrapped the last scarf and looked around the room properly. Nothing, as before. A stiff bed, a TV and the few boxes which had contained most of the clothes. I picked up a scarf, the muted tartan pattern mirroring the world outside. The walls were clearly once white, as a few patches by the bed demonstrated. But the same film of dust covered the walls inside and out. There in the corner was what I wanted though. 
 
 Practically sprinting across the tiny apartment I came to the sink. Several cups as well as some washing apparatus lay by the sides, which I brushed aside to hungrily grab at one of the small silver sachets lying by the sink. I tore the packet open and turned on the tap in one fluid motion, dumping the contents into the basin. A thick yellow powder covered the base, which began to quickly grow and thicken as the water landed on it. I scooped up a handful as it bubbled away, enjoying the feelings of popping in my palms, before shovelling it into my mouth. 
 
 I stood over the sink for a moment, enjoying the feeling of a swelling stomach for the first time in too long. A distant siren began peeling in the background, cutting through the other sounds of the city. Thinking back to when this had all begun, all this just because he did n't like apples, he'd have thought he was a madman. But not now. Reginald, one of the older appless' had told him doctors did n't always hunt people down. Once they'd been there to help with your health. To stop things like sickness, anguish, death and violence. But then the apples had arrived, driven them from their jobs they were demoted to little more than Bedroom Boogies, scaring you into eating your apples. Children told they'd be taken away in the night if they did n't comply. Adults taken in the night for not complying. 
 
 That's what happened to most of the appless, taken by the doctors. For their own health they say. But there's more to it than that. You trade your soul for your health with those things. No pain, no happiness, no hunger, no life. That was the deal. And not one I was willing to make. Not today especially, with the last of the slop sliding down my gullet, I noisily sucked the remnants of my fingers. 
 
 The sirens in the background were cut short and I felt the lift begin to hum into life once again. Looking toward my previous perch I saw that scaling the wall again would not be possible, the previous ladder made of boxes now thoroughly crushed under foot. I snatched up the remaining silver packets shoving them in my pockets, and headed toward the door. I paused at the handle, running the edge of a packet between my fingers before shoving my hand deeper into my pocket. They do n't feel hunger, they wo n't miss the packets as much as me. With that I pushed down on the handle and lifted the catch. 
 
 I stared out into the darkened corridor, the only light coming from the lift shaft as exposed cables slowly pulled in opposite directions. I stared down the hole at the slowly rising metal box. I fantasised about cutting the wires briefly, cattle do n't know the difference between the slaughterhouse and a falling lift after all. But I'd have needed something sharp for that, like a scalpel, but stealing one of those from a doctor is more hassle than it's worth. 
 
 I headed toward the stairwell, I could handle a few weeks in the badlands with that meal in my gut and food in my pocket, away from the doctors and the malingerers who might drop me in it. 
 
 Why I chose to turn around and look back through the window I do n't know, but I forever wish I had n't. I saw the gilded cage rattle its way up. It was slower than normal, but I was n't to know that. As it crested the floor I saw the unmistakable sight of 4 white coats. Shrouding their bodies in a soft glow, 3 of them held sedatives whilst another carried a door bolt. She had a scalpel slung luxuriously across her back. Full respirator face masks covered their faces, which were the only parts still splattered in blood. 
 
 Around their feet were small pools of blood, some still dripping from the edges of their immaculate coats. And there in the corner in a crumbled heap was Marra ( Mirra? not quite sure on the spelling ). The host of the house I'd been parasitic off for the past week. Blue vaccum sealed bag still in hand. Head crumbled in, little more than a core. God damn malingerers. I did n't wait to see anymore. I knew what this was about. I began calmly jogging down the stairs. Had to make sure I was n't out of breath when I got to the bottom. I heard an echoing thump as the door bolt smashed the door frame above me. Four floors above me now. I slowed my speed to a casual walk as I approached the back door. I took a deep breath and a step out into the street, once again bathed in the lights of an ambulance.
