To think that just a few months ago I was living in what I personally would call a utopia… That is to say it was a utopia now that I look back on it. I would wake up at six thirty and go to school, to hang out with friends and ‘learn’ to my heart’s content. It wasn’t really hard to look at the world and all the things and people then underestimate their importance. In one day my whole world changed.
My eyes drifted around the room wearily as I stood up and grabbed my Spanish project. One step BreathAbbey just breath, it’s a project and nothing more… you call out the answers all the time, what’s the difference? Two Steps.
"Attention all students and staff. Please remain calm but everyone is to return home IMMEADIATELY!" one of the principals said over the loud speaker. The principal? What the hell… wait…? I don’t have to say my project, YESSSSSSS!
"Aww. Darn Mrs. Kang, guess I won’t be giving my speech!" I said and headed back to my seat to pack up my bag. Whispers flew around me.
"What’s going on?"
"How come we’re going home?"
"I bet one of the seniors flushed a few cherry bombs!" the class laughed. Out side everyone had confused expressions on their faces. I ran over to the bike rack and grabbed my evil hot pink bicycle. The gates had students moshing their way through to the out side, where’d they be handed a mask. Okay… weird. It took ten minutes before I was able to get out.
My cell phone buzzed and I opened it.
"Hello?… Yeah school let us out WAY early to… you’re joking right? … But an influenza type virus hasn’t happened in ninety one years…" I could hear tears in her voice, "Your boy friend has it? Oh my god I’m so sorry." It felt weird having a mask over my face. "I’ll call you back when I get home… Bye." I flipped my phone closed and hopped on my bike to pedal home.
The next few days my family’s eyes were glued to the TV screen. There were no cartoons, or movies. Just the constant news and the death Toll rising on the bottom left corner of the screen. Three of my family members from different households were all infected and two had already died, not including my best friend’s boy friend.
Then there came a call I was dreading. The house phones rang their different tunes. The caller ID told me it was my best friend. She was in the hospital and had the disease.
Two Months in the Pandemic
The second wave was coming to an end and 30,000,000 people had already died. Most of the people I cared for were buried in mass unmarked graves; their names were always on my mind. They were haunting whispers in the dark hallway, Ghosts in the stuffy still air, thuds and footsteps in the non-existent attic.
Most of the stores had been raided many times over, their shelves left empty by the grasping hands of soon-to-be-corpses. All of my hopes for my life were shattered with the one cough that meant my upcoming death. I prayed with fervor that I would not die, but it got worse. I was taken to a makeshift hospital in the airport. Nothing was given to stop the pain of breathing, of living.
I felt my life drifting. There were no bright lights in my head; just blissful peace and I reached for it. Trying to survive was like being put in a box two times bigger then you, with smooth walls, and trying to climb out of it using only my hands. I gave up.
To think that just a few months ago I was living in what I personally would call a utopia I would wake up at six thirty and go to school, to hang out with friends and ‘learn’ to my heart’s content. It wasn’t really hard to look at the world and all the things and people then underestimate their importance. I "floated" up and saw the world anew. Was this our Armageddon? No it was mine, and the millions of others who had died just like I had.
Monday 4/26/09 10:15 AM
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