The grey morning light filtered through the cloud cover, waking up the world with the sound of car horns blaring in the congested streets far below. The alarm blared to life, splitting the silence in two. Grunting, I pawed at the bedside table, searching blindly for the annoyance. As soon as my fingers curled around the device, I threw it across the room, snuggling back into the warm duvet.

5 minutes later, the blasted thing shrieked again, the sound ricocheting around the walls, bouncing off the ceiling to slam into my ears.

“Fine! I’m up.” Jumping out of bed I grabbed up the device. Pressing the stop button and replacing it on the bedside table. I stretched out stiff muscles, the tension in my neck igniting the worst headache, a splitting pain, stabbing between my eyes. The hot shower worked out most of the kinks, the bland breakfast doing little to inspire me. I dressed, the black uniform cutting uncomfortably into my waist, the shoes, not quite hugging the curve of my sole.

Heading out into the grey morning, I looked around at the city. Grey brick, smog filled air, I choked on the miasmas, walking towards the train. The jumble of bodies pressed into me, forcing me to go with the flow of early morning commuters.

I tried not to trip over the littered addicts, scattered around the subway. They usually kept to the walls, but some panhandled the crowd, braving the midst to the stream. Most pushed them aside, but the addicts didn’t seem to notice the jostling. I pushed forward, the addicts never had luck this close to the end of the month. They would have much better luck after renewal day.

The train doors opened, the crowded compartments getting even more full. I was pushed onto the train, the man behind me losing interest in manners. Biting my tongue, I sucked in a quick breath, squeezing my way to a corner. The entire carriage stank of body odour, and coffee scented halitosis. I settled in for my half hour journey, wishing that the windows could be opened, even just a crack.

The locomotive offered a unique view of the city, the grey blur speeding passed. Litter spread over the streets, addicts huddled in alleyways and doorways, lost in their own minds. The expanse of brick and mortar reflected the sky, the whole picture blending together in an amorphous blob of monochromatic depression.

Arriving at work, I slunk into my desk chair, trying and failing to breathe some life back into my soul. The colours in the officer were washed out, neutral. They said it was to increase productivity, but that was a lie. Everything in this world was made dull. Tapping my computer to life, I rolled my shoulders, the tightness bringing no relief to my poor head, my back screaming with discomfort.

“Okay everyone.” Maggie, the office manager sounded as boarded as I was. “I know that it’s that time of month, so everyone is feeling the strain. But it’s renewal day tomorrow, so that’s something to look forward too. Let’s just all do our best to get through it.” With that rousing call to arms, she slammed the door to her office, almost throwing herself into the desk chair and buried her head in her hands.

I knew how she felt, we all did, drained, lifeless, one second away from committing a violent crime. Anything to break up the monotony of existence. Taking a deep breath of air, I reached under my desk, picking up the file folders to input onto the computer system. My dry eyes scanning each line as I typed the information onto the system.

“Hey, coming for lunch.” The voice hovered over me.

Looking up, I saw my friend Mark, he was sullen, on the verge of tears. “Sure.” A few taps and my screen went black. My face reflected in the monitor matching his.

The lunch room only had one thing on the menu, “mmm…protein cubes, my favourite.” I sneered at the jelly as it was placed on my plate.

“Better than nothing.” Mark tried.

“Is it? Is it really.” I pressed.

“No, not really.” He let out a heavy sigh, the conveyer belt of workers making their way to the till. We sat heavily at a small table. No one was smiling, any conversation was hushed. The air in the room stagnant and oppressive.

“You heard about the arrests?” Mark asked, cutting into his cube.

“Yeah, can’t say anything bad about the government now.” He silenced me with a warning look.

“They are going to be put to death. Inciting violence.”

“Sounds right.” The day was wearing me down. “At least its renewal day tomorrow. We can finally get some relief.” I had to keep hold of that, it was the only thing preventing me from walking into a lake.

“You hear about the suicides?” It was like he were reading my mind.

“No. Bad?” A quizzed.

“The usual, but it seems to be coming earlier each month now.”

“Better not keep talking like that. Someone might overhear and put us out of our misery.” The genuine smile that crossed my face felt great, as Mark gave a snort of laughter. Bored eyes shot in our direction, a mixture of curiosity and anger flashing at us both.

I forked at my cube, making it jiggle. “Just gotta hold on till tomorrow.” I slid the cube into my mouth, chewing on the tasteless lump.

The rest of the day crawled to a close, nothing brightening the miserable grind. The journey home as meaningless as the journey to work. I squinted at the addicts. The blissful smiles on their faces, I wished that I could feel the way that they did. More bland protein cubes for dinner. Nothing breaking through the depression that held me in sway. I wanted to scream, to run away, to take that leap, to go for that long walk off a short peer. I wanted out. The bed called to me, the alluring siren song of sleep, and sleep that I knew would not be restful, but I needed it non-the-less.

The next morning dawned, just as grey as the last. Only this morning there was no traffic out on the street. Happy chatter drifted up from far below. Groggily I got out of bed, dressing in the first thing I could grab off the floor. Switching on the TV I winced, the happy anchor woman sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “So get on down to the council buildings in your local town or city.” She sang out, ending her segment.

A man showed on screen, his perfect smile wide. “For those just joining us on this beautiful 1st of the month. Happy renewal day! Your state sanctioned medication will be arriving shortly, if it hasn’t already.” He laughed, making me want to punch the screen. “Check your mail for your monthly dose of happiness.” His smile faded a little. “In other news, the suicide rate last month, exceeded normal levels, the government have issued a inquest into this worrying new trend. Arrests have also sky rocketed, terrorist ideology spreading through the uninsured and those out of work.” I switched the TV off, slamming the remote harder than intended. My mail sat on the door mat, beckoning me. Slouching forward I sorted through the stack, the bills slipping through my fingers until I found my monthly dose.

I took the letter to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and ripping open the envelope. The capsule gleamed, a golden liquid contained in gelatine. So similar to the cod-liver oil that my mother had made me choke down as a child. I dropped it in the water, my foot tapping with impatience. It swirled in the bottom of the glass, the gelatinous membrane thinning, until it finally burst open, colouring the water with a shimmering yellow glow. “Sunshine in a cup.” I whispered, knocking back the liquid.

My head clouded as I stumbled to the couch, sitting heavily into the soft fabric of the cushions. My heart rate decreased, vision turned sharper, yet unfocused. I smiled, giggling to myself. “This must be how the addicts feel all the time.” I breathed into the silence of the apartment. Tingles raced each other across my skin, sparks igniting each nerve as my tight muscles relaxed. I was in heaven, floating on a cloud.

Opening my eyes, the colours flooded my brain, every sense was heightened. I stretched, my body responding to every movement. Grabbing my keys I headed outside. The red and brown brick buildings held a certain charm, the blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. “Lovely day isn’t it?” An old woman sat on a bench feeding the pigeons.

“It’s beautiful.” The wide smile almost fractured my cheek bone it was so big. Releife spread through my veins. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Hello.” I sang down the line, noting that it was my friend Mark on the other end.

“Someone’s cheery.” I could hear his grin. “You want to go to the pub, grab a drink?”

“I would love to. See you there.” I spun on my heels, heading down to the rabbit and hare on the corner. My good mood impenetrable, as I skipped down the greenery strewn street.