Michael Emerson walked home alone from work one night, the way he always did. He had no family, no friends, and no chance of finding a wife. As he steadily approached middle age, he began noticing more vividly the way he could disappear in a crowd of people like a shadow, always there but rarely seen. He was able to observe it even then, pushed carelessly amongst the colony that trailed quickly through the park, eerily resembling a shadow in the black hoodie and trousers that clung to his body like a new skin. Because those around him brought him nothing but melancholy, he turned his attention to nature instead.

The night sky was black as ink, containing no stars to contrast the awfully dark shade, only the desperately gleaming full moon. Autumn had begun some time ago, which was visible from the subtly withering trees, faded leaves falling to the ground the way faded memories fell out of one's consciousness, leaving only faint traces of vivacity and freshness to hold onto the gnarled branches with the last bits of hope they had in them, which he knew very well because he had been a green leaf on an Autumn tree his whole life.

He released a heavy sigh from his chapped brown lips, not at all aware of the dread he would feel right after as the sigh turned into an aggressive cough that felt like blood engulfing his throat, from which came a single withered daisy. He screamed without even realising he had done so, and several strangers instantly rushed to his aid, shocked to discover the same thing he did.

"Quick! We must get him to the hospital!" a mother of two shouted as she picked up her phone, after which the whole world turned black.

When he woke up, he realised that he was in an entirely different environment. The room was completely and utterly white, and he was strapped to a bed of the same colour as a group of men in black inspected him.

"The situation is tragic," said the eldest after what seemed like half an hour of tests. "The virus appeared suddenly and is developing swiftly. Soon this man shall be lost to the infection if nothing is done about it. We must send him to a shelter in Alaska and perform special treatments if we hope to save his life."

"Wait-" Michael wanted to say, but was stopped by the head doctor giving him an injection that caused him to pass out.

He woke up in what was presumably Alaska. Through the frost glass windows, he could see nothing but snow for kilometres on end, which indicated a different environment even though the building was also starkly white. From there on, he would remain isolated for months on end, accompanied solely by men in black who avoided him whenever possible. Miserably, he soon died in solitude, and the investigation had not progressed at all, but before Death, he had learned an important lesson. It is necessary to not wallow in woe and seize control of one's life before it's too late.