Dying Embers

Prologue:

I never thought it would happen this way. You see it in movies and you hear about it but it’s never like this.

Everybody’s dying and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. There is no cure. So many are dead already and there’s hardly any time left for the living. Or for the dead. Five hours is all you have once the virus has gripped your body. Five hours to say goodbye. But you can’t say goodbye without infecting the others. So what would you do if you only had five hours to live?

Luckily, I haven’t been faced with that decision just yet. But’s hard to live when all of your friends and most of your family have gone.

Right now, I’m sitting on my bed, in a cave made of bedclothes. I’m listening to the T.V. My ears are straining to hear good news, but so far it hasn’t come. The reporter is sick with the virus but she’s determined to keep on talking. Looks like she has about 5 minutes left. Her skin is deathly pale, and she can hardly talk for shaking.

I learnt about the virus from my parents. At the moment, they’re out helping virus victims. Part of me wishes I could be out there helping them. The other part is relieved to be safe in my house.

The virus came from a toxic waste plant and it is so contagious. It has spread rapidly because of how close the countries are now. Over time, Global Warming has caused countries to attach, separated only by small lakes and rivers. The entire world has been taken by this virus and only a few people are left. The reporter back on the T.V. is coughing now, only a bit longer to go for her. I bet she’ll be glad to go because the virus causes so much pain to the victim.

The house is so quiet. There are no cars driving past my window, no voices in the street. No birds chirping or dogs howling. Just nothing. Nothing at all. The reporter is hardly talking now. She can only whisper. Her pale face has broken into a sweat and her brown bobbed hair is glued to her cheeks and forehead. I can tell that the camera man is dying too. His hands are trembling so the camera is shaking.

“To all of you survivors, just stay safe,” mumbles the reporter, and her eyes grow wide and frightened. Suddenly, she collapses onto the ground beside her chair and the TV screen is filled with ear-piercing static.

My heart is racing; I have no connection to the outside world now. I am all alone.