A Sickly Change of Events

Prologue

I don't know how to say this. The journey I've been on seems like an endless story that will only end with death. I'm still on its road, looking for an exit feet out, but if this can be fixed, anything is possible. I can't figure out how I should explain this, how I feel will express my feelings in the best way. Should I write it like a novel? Or a diary that needs to be updated? I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

If you're reading this, I dearly hope everything is over, that you aren't in the situation I'm in. Because if you, well you're on your own. The governments don't exist anymore, not without people for it to run. No one is coming to save me or you. I learnt this a long time ago. But if you are reading this in the future, I want someone to read my story, someone who will care about all the pain and torture I've been through. And it's all because of one person.

I won't reveal who this person is until the end, it might add to the mystery. If this is published as a book, well, it would better that people thought it was fiction rather than reality. No one wants this to happen, unless you are the most evil person. Before I begin, I would like to describe how my life was before this all started. It might give you an idea of how quickly everything changed.

I lived, or should I say lived, in a small town in Queensland, Australia, called Goldsmith. It was named after Robert Goldsmith, the discoverer of the coal mines our town made its money off. It was your typical town, a section for the wealthy, the suburbans' and the poor. I was one of the poor.

The school I went to was the only one, and mum could barely afford it, but with the money I earned combined with hers, we could just pull through. The school was a tall brick building, with 2000 students and a lot of teachers. I was in my eleventh year at the time. Now I should be in twelve.

I had two best friends, Laura and Shannon, along with those random people you talk to on class but never really talk to out of it. Laura was a medium height blonde with slightly tanned skin and brown eyes. She laughed at almost anything, a lot of the time getting her weird looks, but she didn't care.

Shannon had darker skin, with brown hair which was always pulled back in a bun, but she always looked professional and ready to do anything. Shannon was a perfectionist, always completing her assignments a week before they were due and she was a master at studying. She always helped me with my schoolwork when I had trouble, which is a good thing, because otherwise I would have failed a lot if subjects.

My mum was another story however,she was pretty young to have a 16 year old daughter (only 37), and she had to raise me on her own. But that's a story for later on, when the relevance to say it is there.

It's strange how quickly everything crumbled in just a few days. The disease that took over people's minds spread like we were all closed up in a giant enclosed pen. Except we weren't, we were just making contact with the first few people who got it. Watching someone turn on you like that is the most horrible thing I've ever experienced in my short life. Imagine someone you love, suddenly hating you and thinking you were the cause of their pain. Yeah, doesn't sound to good now does it?

Looking back, I realise it was so obvious what was going on, but because e were living in the 21st century, no one thought something like this would wipe us out. It's difficult living without power or the amount of food we needed, sometimes we had only one meal in a day, and barely had three. I even miss the homework. It gave me something to do in my spare time, but now all I can do is think and do chores. I prefer the latter. I don't like to let myself think, if I do, I remember everything as if I was still there.

Writing this down might be good for me, something to let everything off my chest. But somehow I think it'll just make me more stressed, reliving everything that's happened. No one knows I'm writing this down. If they did, they would be furious. What's the point of writing it down? What do you think it'll do? No one's even going to bother to read anymore. But that's what I'm hoping for. That maybe one day everything will go back to normal and everything that's happened will end.

It has to, doesn't it? This disease can't wipe us all out, can it? I'm not sure how many people are still alive, but I've heard that in America, there's a place for everyone that's safe and has no signs of disease. But all it would take for one one of them to get sick and then everyone's dead. I don't like the idea of that.

Doctors are working on a cure, but with limited staff and supplies, it's much harder than it seems. And what if this is like cancer? It'll take years to cure, even with the medical equipment we have now. What if everyone'a gone by then?

If you're reading this now, and you're shocked or surprised, you must be from the distant future. But, if not, well I wish you good luck. This is my story.