paigerwaiger94
Aug 31, 2009, 03:20 PM
"No." I whispered to myself. I'm not just some kind of monkey that can be carted around like this! I laid my head back down, as a wave of nausea washed over me again. This cot was really starting to hurt my back. I looked around myself, at the overly crowded room, hoping, and praying, that I was going to be one of the lucky ones that made it through this. My mother was already gone, as my dad had been a long time ago. I was the only one left.
Shakingly, I watched the army men come through the doors. They had been doing this for the past eight days. Carting off the dead. Just two days ago, the girl next to me had been carried away. She had been the one who had told me what to expect from the commandos. If by the end of thirty days, this outbreak wasn't under control, they would take every one who was innfected, (if they weren't dead yet.) to the outskirts of town, and kill them. At first, I thought she was lying, but then, they started carrying out the living. I don't know how she knew. And I wasn't sure if I believed her out of my own fear, or if it was the pitying looks on the soldiers faces that convinced me. I had been here for ten days, since the very beginning. I have lasted through it all. I'm not sure why, I don't think I'm immune. I still have some of the symptoms. But most Ebola victims die within four days. My eyes have blood in them, but that's pretty much it. I haven't even had a nosebleed yet. Most of what I have seen here, will probably scar me for life. People with blood trickling from every opening. White stuff in their eyes, and mouths. It makes me nauseas just thinking about it.
I stood up, shakily, and walked to the bulletin board. Today they had a list of who was being moved. There wasn't many people left. Mrs. Willis, and Mrs. Shantz, who were pretty close to dying now. Mr. Huston, and of course, my best friend, Willy. His name is spelled Willy, but pronounced while- ee. And then there's me. Willy was brought in yesterday, and he is sicker than me, already. But not quite as sick as Mrs. Shantz, or Mrs. Willis. Sometimes, he has to stop talking because his mouth starts bleeding. When that happens, I get sick. I've never been able to stand the sight of blood.
But anyway, we were being moved today. I walked back to my bed, and gathered up what little I had. I shook Mr. Hustons shoulder, but he wouldn't wake up. Instead, I moved to Willys bed, who was the next to mine. "Were going today." I whispered. He coughed, and nodded. "Okay." He said hoarsly. I put my plastic bag beneath my bed, and laid back down. Facing him, I knew he was in trouble. He didn't seem to have the strength I did. I knew that if the commandos saw him like this, he would be a dead man. I slipped the candy bar that the doctor had given me, out from under my pillow, and handed it to him. There was nothing like chocolate. His smile was weak. "You gotta shape up if you wanna go right." I said, referring to the right door, where they took the people who were going to another hospital. The left door... well... I hadn't seen anyone come out of the left door for quite some time. People went in, but they stayed in. I took a deep breath, and settled myself to wait.
In a lot of ways, I'm still the same as I was, ten days ago. I get sick to my stomach really easy, and the little black spots in my vision kind of bother me, but other than that, nothing is really wrong. No bleeding mouth, or nose, or ears, or anything like that. I think what happened, was that most people got a really big dose of Ebola, and I only got a little one. Or maybe I'm immune, but that doesn't really seem likely, seeing that both my moma, and daddy died of it. Speaking of them, I didn't even know where they were buried. The army men had come to get moma, and they brought me here, promising that nothing bad would happen to me. Ha. Funny. Lets see, I had only lost my parents, been taken away from my home, quarentined, and treated like a freak because I wasn't dead yet. It seems to me like that would be a good thing, you know. The nurses had already taken about ten cups of blood from me. I was beginning to think they were drinking it behind the curtains. Freaking vampires. Why else would they need so much? Before all of this happened, I lived in a small, town, in Oklahoma. One of the least known states in the union. It was the middle, ordinairy, average. Nothing ever really happens here. But I had been taken from my house, once I called the suits, to pick up mom. I guess I should have known. I'm only fifteen, its not like they would let me live by myself, even if my eyes hadn't given me away. It just so happened that one of the "Optimum Health Centers" was in Oklahoma City. Where I wound up in a bed, right next to my best friend. He had actually requested to be here. I hadn't had a choice. Willy was so out of it, that he didn't know where his parents were. I figured they were dead, like mine. The first two days that I was here, I couldn't think of anything else. I hadn't had to watch daddy go, but I was with moma when she got bad.
Shakingly, I watched the army men come through the doors. They had been doing this for the past eight days. Carting off the dead. Just two days ago, the girl next to me had been carried away. She had been the one who had told me what to expect from the commandos. If by the end of thirty days, this outbreak wasn't under control, they would take every one who was innfected, (if they weren't dead yet.) to the outskirts of town, and kill them. At first, I thought she was lying, but then, they started carrying out the living. I don't know how she knew. And I wasn't sure if I believed her out of my own fear, or if it was the pitying looks on the soldiers faces that convinced me. I had been here for ten days, since the very beginning. I have lasted through it all. I'm not sure why, I don't think I'm immune. I still have some of the symptoms. But most Ebola victims die within four days. My eyes have blood in them, but that's pretty much it. I haven't even had a nosebleed yet. Most of what I have seen here, will probably scar me for life. People with blood trickling from every opening. White stuff in their eyes, and mouths. It makes me nauseas just thinking about it.
I stood up, shakily, and walked to the bulletin board. Today they had a list of who was being moved. There wasn't many people left. Mrs. Willis, and Mrs. Shantz, who were pretty close to dying now. Mr. Huston, and of course, my best friend, Willy. His name is spelled Willy, but pronounced while- ee. And then there's me. Willy was brought in yesterday, and he is sicker than me, already. But not quite as sick as Mrs. Shantz, or Mrs. Willis. Sometimes, he has to stop talking because his mouth starts bleeding. When that happens, I get sick. I've never been able to stand the sight of blood.
But anyway, we were being moved today. I walked back to my bed, and gathered up what little I had. I shook Mr. Hustons shoulder, but he wouldn't wake up. Instead, I moved to Willys bed, who was the next to mine. "Were going today." I whispered. He coughed, and nodded. "Okay." He said hoarsly. I put my plastic bag beneath my bed, and laid back down. Facing him, I knew he was in trouble. He didn't seem to have the strength I did. I knew that if the commandos saw him like this, he would be a dead man. I slipped the candy bar that the doctor had given me, out from under my pillow, and handed it to him. There was nothing like chocolate. His smile was weak. "You gotta shape up if you wanna go right." I said, referring to the right door, where they took the people who were going to another hospital. The left door... well... I hadn't seen anyone come out of the left door for quite some time. People went in, but they stayed in. I took a deep breath, and settled myself to wait.
In a lot of ways, I'm still the same as I was, ten days ago. I get sick to my stomach really easy, and the little black spots in my vision kind of bother me, but other than that, nothing is really wrong. No bleeding mouth, or nose, or ears, or anything like that. I think what happened, was that most people got a really big dose of Ebola, and I only got a little one. Or maybe I'm immune, but that doesn't really seem likely, seeing that both my moma, and daddy died of it. Speaking of them, I didn't even know where they were buried. The army men had come to get moma, and they brought me here, promising that nothing bad would happen to me. Ha. Funny. Lets see, I had only lost my parents, been taken away from my home, quarentined, and treated like a freak because I wasn't dead yet. It seems to me like that would be a good thing, you know. The nurses had already taken about ten cups of blood from me. I was beginning to think they were drinking it behind the curtains. Freaking vampires. Why else would they need so much? Before all of this happened, I lived in a small, town, in Oklahoma. One of the least known states in the union. It was the middle, ordinairy, average. Nothing ever really happens here. But I had been taken from my house, once I called the suits, to pick up mom. I guess I should have known. I'm only fifteen, its not like they would let me live by myself, even if my eyes hadn't given me away. It just so happened that one of the "Optimum Health Centers" was in Oklahoma City. Where I wound up in a bed, right next to my best friend. He had actually requested to be here. I hadn't had a choice. Willy was so out of it, that he didn't know where his parents were. I figured they were dead, like mine. The first two days that I was here, I couldn't think of anything else. I hadn't had to watch daddy go, but I was with moma when she got bad.