The Mind Virus

Prologue

Her toes caressed the ledge of the campus parking structure as she looked down at the grassy area below. So very far below. It called out to her, beckoning her to allow gravity to take its course and unite them. Rather than distress her, the thought of her body hitting the ground and her life essence flickering out gave her comfort. It was the only thought that did, at least for now.

Her mind was ravaged by the virus that she didn't even know she had contracted. The doctors and therapists had been of no help either. Depression and anxiety were just a few of the words that were thrown around, but no diagnosis was given. They hadn't seen anything quite like it, and though they wouldn't admit it in as many words, they had no idea what was happening to her. The virus maintained its mystery. Its effect was the only thing she knew.

She looked up at the twinkling night sky, so clear and serene. Her mind drifted to her father. She thought of how they'd gone fishing together when she was only 10 years old. A comforting memory in the past, but now it only brought her feelings of emptiness and despair. She thought of baking a cake with her mother, but again the memory was overlaid with a dull rage. She tried to think. What had she not thought about recently? If she could remember a memory that she hadn't recalled in a while, she might be able to squeeze in one last happy thought before she begins her eternal sleep. It was no good. Like an invisible cancer, the virus had infected most, if not all, of her memories.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to cheat. Instead of a good memory, she recalled times as banal as attending her boring classes or sitting in the cafeteria alone, but there was no escape. With every new memory, a deluge of despair or hate or hopelessness or emptiness or or or... She thought again of falling to her death, but now that was infected too.

The gentle breeze stroked her bare arms. She began thinking about being held closely by her boyfriend, but then – no, enough of that. She wouldn't stand there and continue to be betrayed by her memories. She wasn't there for that. She had a much more current matter to attend to.

She was going to do it. She lifted her foot and began to move forward, before stumbling back firmly onto the ledge. She took another step back and fell to her knees, sobbing angrily. What a cruel joke. She couldn't live, but she didn't have the capability to let herself die. The animals of the night chirped around her, mocking her impotent rage. The sound swelled around her, like an orchestra all tuning their instruments at the same time. She felt like she was being driven insane. Perhaps she was.

The cacophony was broken by her phone ringing. It played her favorite song. In better days, the song reminded her of the excitement when she'd gone with her friends to see the band live. Now the very thought filled her with sadness and disgust. She pulled the phone out. A picture of her embracing her father was flashing on the screen. She had been ignoring his calls. Hearing his voice would only remind her of all their time together, which would bloat her full of negative emotions. If she was going to go out, though, what would it matter? She owed her father one last conversation.

"Dad?" she answered through choked tears.

"Pumpkin, where have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you for ages?" His voice reminded her of the last time they'd gone out for lunch together. Another tainted memory. Another wave of hollowness.

"I've been here, Dad. Just... working on my coursework," she lied. In truth, she had spent the past two weeks holed up in her room, trying to think of nothing. She hadn't been very successful. In all likelihood, being cooped up alone probably helped the virus spread faster, without any distractions to keep her from accessing her memories. She realized that now, but there really was no going back.

"Ah, all right. You always were the conscientious type. Top grades or nothing. Hey, remember that time you got a middling grade on your history quiz when you were in the fifth grade?"

Her eyes lit up. "You took me out of school."

"Yeah, your teachers called me and said you were inconsolable. So I thought I'd take you out for a treat."

"The zoo. They had just introduced the monkey exhibit. I'd been begging you to take me there for months." She hadn't thought about that in forever. The virus hadn't gotten this memory yet. She reveled in it. It was the first happy memory she'd recalled and been able to enjoy in days.

"You started climbing up the outside of the gibbon cage," her father laughed. "The zoo employee basically had to drag you off of it!"

"Yeah, that was -" she couldn't find the words, but now she was crying tears of joy. Her heart felt like someone was pouring warm tea into it. She was almost ecstatic.

"Are you all right, pumpkin?"

"I'm great, Dad. I can't explain it, but you've really made my night, maybe my month."

"Uh, OK..."

"I have to go now, Dad. Thank you so much for calling. I'll speak with you later."

"Will you be coming home for your birthday?"

"You'd better believe it."

"All right, pumpkin. I'll just leave you to it then. I can't wait to see you."

"You too, Dad. See ya!" She hung up the phone.

She thought about her day at the zoo again. It was like she was reliving it. The sights, the sounds, the smells – her senses were being bombarded with the past.

She stood up.

She remembered making funny faces at the orangutans. They hadn't seemed terribly amused by them, but she certainly was.

She stepped back onto the ledge.

She remembered her father buying her an ice cream. They had a novelty four scoop offer that she jumped on immediately. More of the ice cream had ended up all over her face and clothes rather than in her mouth, but that was all right. Her father had only laughed with her.

She braced herself.

She remembered getting home in the evening. The look on her mother's face when she came in covered in ice cream had been priceless. She had warmed up quickly, though. It was hard to stay mad at a child when she was so happy. A happy family. That's what they were, and that's how she would always remember them.

She shed one final tear, then jumped.