Written last November 9, 2011 at 9:49pm
Note: I was very stressed at this time and wanted to relax and somehow ended up creating this short story. My frame of mind when writing this was not equipped for bright and bubbly tales, so a warning: the story below can be dark and depressing. Read at your own emotional peril.
The world appears to be ending. Floods, earthquakes, fires, they are everywhere. Worse, society seems to have become dumber or number, depending on who you ask. Everything is just going on a downward spiral.
Somewhere in all these chaos and depression is a woman too dead inside to care. People cannot fathom why she is unhappy when she has everything. Despite everyone else getting their houses foreclosed and falling into debt, she comfortably lives in a posh apartment building with a great view. She has just been promoted, issued a company car, and given an award for her work innovations. But she continues to be discontented, shunning potential friends and lovers. In her eyes, everything seems so shallow, so useless.
One day, she received a call. Her lab results are finally in. She knew it was coming, so was not surprised when the doctor told her she had cervical cancer. When her physician told her she only had a month to live, she just felt as if she’s already dead. Seriously, what was the point of life?
She quit her job and deeded all her possessions to a random charity institution she found online. She called nobody. She had no real friends and family anyway. And her funeral plan was long ago taken care of. She is going to be cremated and whoever is available from the insurance company will scatter her ashes. It was that simple.
One month passed and the woman was no more. Her officemates talked about her for some time but they soon forgot. They had no connection with her and days are better off spent gossiping, discussing the latest fashion, or getting updated with other employees’ sex life. The woman faded completely from the lives she has touched but momentarily. However, her legacy is just beginning.
After a few months, the woman’s lawyers finally sorted out her last wish and testament. Not long after, a van arrived at Everlasting Hope charity. A huge container was unloaded. The displaced children from the institution crowded around it, excited to see what the rich lady has left them. A small boy undid the seal and opened the lid. Inside was murky, smelly waste water. What a letdown. The lady must have been a really sad person.
Late that night, the boy started coughing violently. Blood gushed out from his nose. He convulsed once, twice and lied back down on his bed, unmoving. A little girl came to check on him, but it was too late. Then the little girl started coughing too. All over the charity house, coughs can be heard. Then cries. Then screams. At last there was quiet.
The city was never the same after that night. The contagion spread like wildfire. Everywhere, people were either dead or dying. There is nothing anybody can do. No way to stop the virus.
As the sun rose, the city was quiet. All life has been extinguished.
On the underside of the lid of the barrel containing the dark water, the following words were written:
Biohazard. No Known Cure.
[Please respect copyright. Opinions are highly welcome because I am always willing to improve my writing. Thank you.]