• I sat at the edge of the hospital bed. Looking down at my bare pale feet. The rain batted against the window making this sad day a tragedy. The feelings of depression did not hide from me. They embraced every bone in my body. I hate hospitals. Everything is so white, pure, the nurses always seem happy. When really it is only covering up the pain they all feeling, the pain of knowing most of these people today will die and they can not do anything to stop it. All the education they went threw, the training, the all nighters, are nothing, because nothing could prepare them for the devastation of what has become of the world.


    A nurse knocked on the door. She had a fake smile plastered on her face. Though her eyes said it all. They were red, puffy, she had been crying. Most likely over the death of a loved one. That’s all anyone cries about now. Death.


    She looked down at her clipboard looking threw the sheets of paper on it.


    “Ms. Jennings” She questioned.


    I looked up at her with the coldest eyes I could manage to muster. “yes”


    Pity. That’s all I could see. Her smile was gone, replaced with a frown. She was on the edge of breaking down. She sat herself on the wooden chair beside my bed. Crossing her legs trying to compose herself.


    “I’m sure you already know” she stated.


    “Give me the details” I said coldly. I really had no reason to treat this women like this. Though I did not care. I did not care about anything.


    “The virus took them all. Your mother, father, sisters, and brother” she paused “ We tried, but there was nothing we could do to save them. This virus is worse then anything earth has thrown at us. I believe that anyone who gets this virus shall die”


    I figured. The virus always worked this way. Take, take, take, that’s all it ever did. Nobody ever lived once they were diagnosed. It started off like something minor. A cough, a slight fever, maybe a runny nose. Normal flue like symptoms. Though it never stayed that way for long. Soon the virus would spread threw your body killing all your white blood cells at an exceptional rate. That’s when things would turn for the worse. Soon you would lose your mind. It would do something to your brain that would make you just kill things, or infect the uninfected. Though you were conscience threw the whole thing. You would end up killing your loved one and not be able to stop yourself. In the end though everyone dies. It eats away at your brain and eventually you die from eternal bleeding. Nothing can stop it or prevent it. Nobody knows where it started.


    Religious groups are calling it the lords coming. ‘Revelations is here!’ They yell at the street corner. Handing out pamphlets, trying to preach the word to the unsaved, the damned. Though they will die soon as well, some of the people in the churches have already contracted the virus.

    There is hope they say. There are people who are immune to it. People like me. Some call us angels, some call us aliens, personally I think I was born to survive. I was born to change this place. Generation X is what they have called us. And 95% of us are immune to it. Though it seems the virus attacks anyone below 15 and above 25. It seems if you are in that age bracket you are pretty good. I fight nicely in the bracket at age 19. My Sisters, twins, only 5, my mother and father were both 42, my brother he was 21.


    I think he is still alive. Some kids have been starting to disappear after going to the hospital to see if they were immune. I think the government is kidnapping them for experimental reasons. Trying to figure out why most of the world is damned but us young adults are safe. I fear for my brother, though I know he is strong.


    “I’m immune?” I question. I already know the answer.


    “Yes” she pauses “you are. You are free to go anytime now”


    “Thank you” I nodded my head walking over to my close. The hospital floor was ice cold on my feet. I hated cold flooring.


    The nurse got up to leave the room so I could have privacy. Her hand on the doorknob she looked back at me. “I’m 26” and then burst out crying. “My family won’t touch me. They all think I’m going to kill them or worse, infect them.”


    I rushed over to her putting an arm around her shoulders. Why was I comforting this woman who I was just being a b***h to? Well I think its just human nature.


    “You are just outside the bracket, you may not get it.” I whispered.


    “No I will, I know I will” she looked at me “I hate you!” anger had replaced the sadness and pain. Her hand swiftly went up into the air and collided with my face, sending me flying across the floor hitting the wall.

    I looked up at her confused. “I’m so sorry” she said crying again and ran out of my room… infected.


    I quickly put my clothes on before word got out I was immune. I definitely didn’t want my predictions of the crazy government coming to take me for experimentation. I exited out of the hospital opening my umbrella the hard rain pelting against the black canvas. There wasn’t many people on the streets now. Just the odd teenage probably escaping from their homes. They would smile at me as they passed and I just nodded. Ever since the virus has begun killing everyone, us kids have found comfort in each other. We could always tell if someone was infected or immune. Not only are they around the same age, they all just have this glow to them. This relief.


    I walked up the steps to my flat in Stratford Ontario. I loved it here. I had originally moved here to make something of myself but ended up just getting a full time job and getting a nice flat. I walked over to my phone checking the messages.


    “You have 1 new messages. Message 1” It said in an automated voice. “Message 1” the automated voice was then replaced with a deep voice, gravely, it sounded odd. Like he was trying to mask his real identity. “Hello this is for Areona Jennings. I can not disclose any information over the phone. Please meet me at six o’clock pm in the Shakespeare garden on April sixth. This is of utmost importance, I wont call for you again” the line went dead and was replaced once again with the automated voice “message left on April fifth, 2:36pm.”


    Silence filled the room. All that could be heard was the heavy rain pelting against the old worn windows of my flat. I did not really know what to make of the message. It was so odd, to say the least. I sat down on my black couch throwing my things on the glass coffee table in front of me. It was getting darker out by now. It was 8:00pm but I did not turn on a light. For some reason I was afraid of disturbing this depressing feeling that had followed me home from the hospital. A tear ran down my cheek as it hit me harder and harder with ever tick of the clock on my white walls. I was alone