Doctor Amy Sze walked past the masses of employees gathered at the cafeteria. For her, it would be another regular day of work - cut down the paperwork tree that grows on her desk, witness some operations, maybe watch the deaths of a D-class or two. Working in the Foundation for over 5 years, she thought she'd seen it all by now.
"That's it! I'm leaving!" The man stood up, grabbed his jacket, and slammed the apartment door on his way out.
"Daddy?" The 5-year-old Amy stared aimlessly at the wooden door, while her mother broke down into sobbing beside her.
"Careful with the scalpel, Rikard." Amy pointed with her suited hand to a massive irregular bulge protruding from the D-class's stomach wall. "You see that red line? Cut right there, and then cauterize the vessel." She watched as the new researcher to the biohazardous research team steadily cut away at the tumor that was once D-61293's stomach. She smiled as the new guy lifted the separated tumor from its growth place and placed it in a vat of formalin.
"Excellent work, Rikard. Sew up the incision in the stomach wall, and let's patch 'im up and call it a day." She shut the lid on the vat, and placed the unit on a conveyor belt that would take it to the pathologists working two blocks away. She took enjoyment from treating people of their pain, even if she injected them with the organism that she would have to take out of them eventually. Working at the Foundation gave her a sense of purpose.
15-year-old Amy held her elderly mother's hand as she slowly breathed. The cancer was eating her withered body, and the doctors could do nothing about it.
"You've always been a good, strong girl… don't let anyone take that away from you, my love." The elder Sze looked at her only child in her eyes, and smiled for the last time.
"I love you, Amy," she spoke, before closing her eyes. Amy couldn't hear herself crying over the flat, piercing tone of the ECG.
All afternoon, she continued to click away at her computer, trying to put together DNA sequences for some of the superviruses that the Foundation has recently acquired. She always wondered where the Foundation got such nasty ailments, but then thought to herself that she wasn't ready for the answer, and dropped that line of thought. She continued to work uninterrupted until her desk phone began to ring.
"Dr. Sze, please report to room D33 as soon as possible, thank you." The dry lady's tone was replaced with the dead line sound, and Amy put her phone back down before standing up. She really hated when people interrupted her from her work. She found herself most at-ease when working.
"Max, you're drunk!" Amy tried to push him away, but the much bigger guy pinned her to the wall.
"Oh, c'mon, babe," he replied with a slurred voice. "This will be fun, I promise."
She screamed and struggled, and no-one came to her rescue that night…
"… room D33, here it is." She looked at the conference chamber - it appeared empty, but she walked in anyways.
As soon as she walked in, the door sealed shut behind her, and the blinds automatically closed. Alarmed, she drew out her sidearm and crouched low near the door.
Within a few seconds, the lights turned back on, and she saw people and food. She saw a few familiar faces, including David Rosen from Tech. Research, Doctor Lucas Cave, and Alec Brickner.
"Amy," started Brickner, "you work way too hard. I knew you'd forget that today is your 34th birthday. Now, stop worrying for an hour, and enjoy." He lit a small candle on top of the cake, and stepped aside.
Amy smiled, and blew out that candle, wishing that the people that surrounded her now never left her side. In her whole life, she never had a real family until she joined the Foundation…
Amy placed the letter down on her nightstand, while she continued to pack her bags.
Working for a government project? Having her master's and her doctorate paid for? Working with the most advanced technology in the world? What more could she ask for?
She was mildly saddened that she would have to leave this apartment, which has been her home for many years…
… but, at this point, she had nothing left to lose. No friends, no parents, no job… she took her bags with her, and left her apartment.
Outside, a black towncar waited for her. As the attendant packed her bags into the storage compartment, she continued to read her orientation package.
If she could remember anything, she asked herself, she would rather remember this boring package, than the hell that she was forged through.
The towncar sped off into the distance, bringing her someplace new.