Avarice

I was on an island city. No clouds or sun in the sky; the world was brightly lit with no source. Something about the buildings felt flat. There were others with me. We were all on the same suicide mission that one of them was briefing everybody on. We were to drink a glass of blue liquid, something would happen, and then we would die. I drank with everyone else and opted to walk around town. There weren't any other people in the city, and the others began simply disappearing instead of dropping dead. I considered calling my mother, telling her that I had thrown my life away for some greater purpose. I chose not to. But no matter how far I walked, I simply would not die. I never disappeared, even as the world around me grew increasingly static. Buildings and trees turned into cheap set pieces, then shapes, then lines, until nothing remained save me and the bright, featureless sky.