[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]http://cdn.wegotthiscovered.com/wp-content/uploads/robertdenirothefamily.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b] Newnan Hospital[/center][hr][hr]

Air, fresh spring air hit Alexander's face. As the old man walked through the decaying doors of Piedmont Hospital, his first instinct was to listen to his surroundings for anything; footsteps, breathing, moaning or gunfire as of lately, but nothing came within range of his ears. Perhaps he was just too old to hear properly, assisted by the continuing gunfire and artillery shaking his whole body many years ago? But for now, all was silent. So instead he sat down at the staircase, breathing in the cold spring air and enjoying it for a brief moment. 

For a split second, the old man fooled himself into thinking life was actually worth it. He opened his eyes, perhaps hoping to see that everything was alright again. But he saw smoke. No, not smoke. 

Several pillars of smoke. 

Alexander rose up from the staircase, taking several steps towards the remarkable sight. He stood there speechless for a good ten seconds, before breaking the silence. [color=662d91]"What the hell is that?"[/color] he asked himself, wondering if he was imaginating it. But the growling and tiny pain in his stomach argued against that notion, though this only made him even more focused on the smoke. Smoke meant fire, and fire meant - mostly - people. More smoke meant more people, and several different pillars of smoke might mean organized people. But what should he do? Follow it? He had no idea of knowing if they were good or bad people, or if it was indeed people at all. 

The old man looked back at the hospital again, his eyes wandering up towards the roof of the building. If he only had a way of seeing the smoke from the roof of the hospital.