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It all seemed to come back to basketball. The last thing Ellie remembered before everything went horribly wrong was the soft grooves of a basketball as it slapped down to the gymnasium floor from her hand. The swish of the net as the ball sailed through it with an almost effortless shot. The sound of feet stomping the ground aggressively blending with hands colliding with each other and even that getting lost in the cacophony of cheers and shouts from the side lines. She could feel the sweat on her forehead and she could picture the game as clearly as if it were a movie. But one thing that was missing was the look of pride from the sidelines. When she looked to the side to see the coach, her father, nodding as Ellie and the team widened the lead towards victory.

When Ellie looked now, there was no one there. 

Ellie Duke hadn't left her room all day which was only unusual given that she so often preferred being out and about. Up around dawn and home after sundown was basically a way of life for Ellie and when she wasn't practicing she was either at Grimaldi's or just enjoying her youth. She knew she wasn't the only one to have to make certain adjustments in life in the wake of what the media was still discussing at an exhaustive length, but everyone who lost something in the outbreak had a way of making it feel like the worst thing in the world. Because for them it was. 

What was hard for Ellie was walking to the kitchen a few days after everything settled only to find the door to her parents' door closed. Ellie's mother was coping with the loss of her husband by holing up in the room they used to share. If it wasn't for the fact that the food Ellie left in front of the door kept getting eaten she likely would have assumed far worse. Given everything, it wasn't surprising that Ellie was choosing to stay inside and idly flip through the news channels or let it linger on some daytime talk show but it did often feel depressing.

[color=B0E0E6]"Dammit."[/color] Nothing would get accomplished just sitting around. While a normal life might not be immediate, she knew her dad and she knew he wouldn't want her moping about letting her ability go to waste. Things were different now, but there were still constants in life. Basketball. Saturday Night Live. Pizza. It was that last one that inspired Ellie to get off her ass. That was another memory she had of the night. The smell of grease and cheese that came with a victory slice. The last slice she would get to share with him. 

Ellie stepped out of her room and gave a quick knock on her mother's door. [color=B0E0E6]"Going for a slice. Maybe I'll talk to you later."[/color] An optimistic desire but maybe knowing Ellie was making the best of it would help the transitory period of loss. 

Outside, Ellie put her hands in the pockets of her shorts, walking the bitterly familiar path towards the best thing the neighborhood had going for it, other than her fire on the court of course. Her head was kept pointed downwards, as if glancing at familiar sights would be unbearable. The process was long, but it was at least a process. It's why recovery programs had a step method. Ellie was at least past step one, which was more than could be said for some people she knew. 

Grimaldi's loomed in the distance and the 'OPEN' sign was never more inviting, being the first thing she saw as she turned her gaze forward. It looked the same. It smelled the same. And when she opened the door to hear the little bell she was glad that it sounded the same. [color=B0E0E6]"Please let the pepperoni taste the same. I'll settle for a cheese even."[/color] The world had already taken one great thing from her, she didn't know if she could handle another.[/center]