scientists may have reached a breakthrough in the fight against Breytazine. Headed by Dr. John Snow, they claim to be able to fight intrusion of Breytazine into the human system.” She turns to a man next to her. “Doctor, what exactly have you achieved?”
“Well, it's been pretty exciting around here the past few days,” answers the man. “We injected Breytazine into our test subjects, who've already been treated with our formula. None of the hosts accepted the Virus.”
“So their bodies reject the effects?”
“Not only the effects.” The man smiles. “The Virus in its entirety. One hundred percent denial.”
The woman pauses for a moment, wipes her eyes, and then turns back to Dr. Snow. “So those who take the serum will not become infected?”
“That's right.”
“Wow. That's the news we've waited years for.” The woman is emotional and the camera focuses on the doctor for a moment. She waves the camera back to her. “It's all right. I'll be okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What about those already infected? Will this help them?”
Dr. Snow shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Our treatment has no effect on the dying. Our goal from the beginning has been to protect those we can from Breytazine. And we've done that.”
The lounge erupts. “What about us? Turn it off. This is garbage.”
As the guard in the lounge scrambles toward the television, a girl appears on the screen.
“Wait!” I yell. “Don't change it.”
There, in front of the entire world is Jessica, standing next to the man. Dr. Snow. I gasp as I realize the connection.
“Who is this young lady?” asks the reporter.
“This is my daughter,” announces the doctor.
I'm staring, caught in a wave of emotion. I'm angry, sad, and heartbroken all at once.
“I did this for her,” says Dr. Snow. He wipes his brow. “I don't want our children to suffer the fate that so many others have. I want them to know life, to know freedom, to know love.”
I feel like I've been punched in the gut and pushed down an endless well. The room spins, my stomach churns, and I lose my lunch onto the tile.
“Get him out of here,” one of the nurses yells as she rushes toward a bio-hazard kit.
I'm carried into the Scream Room, where I'm prepped and cleaned and scrubbed all over again. I vomit a few more times, but I don't care. I stop fighting the impulse despite the nurses' pleas. The past seven days suddenly make sense to me and there's nothing left to live for.
Chapter Eight: Enemies
I miss school the next day, a result of more tests and drugs at the hospital. All I can think about is how life betrayed me; how it lifted me up with hope that something good could come from my condition before dropping me to suffer the infinite cruelty of fate.
Her father. Of all people, Jessica's father has developed the drug that makes me more isolated from the world than ever. He never wanted to cure anyone like me. I had heard it from his mouth. He wanted his daughter to have a normal life. I am the opposite of normal, and his motivation is obviously as his results show. To keep his daughter free of the Virus. I am the Virus. Stupid doctors.
When Tuesday morning comes, I'm still sulking as I check out at the front desk and step onto the shuttle. I hadn't known Jessica when I had fought so hard to attend high school. Reaching that goal had meant that perhaps I could resume a part of living. The crushing blow on Sunday had taken that future away from me. My classes feel boring and worthless now. I'm not paying attention on my way to Art and bump into someone as I'm walking.
“Hey, jerk!” the big body yells as he whips around. It's Tyson.
“I'm sorry,” I say. I wave toward him and slide away to resume my walk to class. I cinch my backpack tight.
The warning bell rings. I've got two minutes before I'm late.
“Where you going?” asks Tyson.
“I've got to get to class,” I say. “Sorry.”
A hand grabs my wrist and he's there
“Well, it's been pretty exciting around here the past few days,” answers the man. “We injected Breytazine into our test subjects, who've already been treated with our formula. None of the hosts accepted the Virus.”
“So their bodies reject the effects?”
“Not only the effects.” The man smiles. “The Virus in its entirety. One hundred percent denial.”
The woman pauses for a moment, wipes her eyes, and then turns back to Dr. Snow. “So those who take the serum will not become infected?”
“That's right.”
“Wow. That's the news we've waited years for.” The woman is emotional and the camera focuses on the doctor for a moment. She waves the camera back to her. “It's all right. I'll be okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What about those already infected? Will this help them?”
Dr. Snow shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Our treatment has no effect on the dying. Our goal from the beginning has been to protect those we can from Breytazine. And we've done that.”
The lounge erupts. “What about us? Turn it off. This is garbage.”
As the guard in the lounge scrambles toward the television, a girl appears on the screen.
“Wait!” I yell. “Don't change it.”
There, in front of the entire world is Jessica, standing next to the man. Dr. Snow. I gasp as I realize the connection.
“Who is this young lady?” asks the reporter.
“This is my daughter,” announces the doctor.
I'm staring, caught in a wave of emotion. I'm angry, sad, and heartbroken all at once.
“I did this for her,” says Dr. Snow. He wipes his brow. “I don't want our children to suffer the fate that so many others have. I want them to know life, to know freedom, to know love.”
I feel like I've been punched in the gut and pushed down an endless well. The room spins, my stomach churns, and I lose my lunch onto the tile.
“Get him out of here,” one of the nurses yells as she rushes toward a bio-hazard kit.
I'm carried into the Scream Room, where I'm prepped and cleaned and scrubbed all over again. I vomit a few more times, but I don't care. I stop fighting the impulse despite the nurses' pleas. The past seven days suddenly make sense to me and there's nothing left to live for.
Chapter Eight: Enemies
I miss school the next day, a result of more tests and drugs at the hospital. All I can think about is how life betrayed me; how it lifted me up with hope that something good could come from my condition before dropping me to suffer the infinite cruelty of fate.
Her father. Of all people, Jessica's father has developed the drug that makes me more isolated from the world than ever. He never wanted to cure anyone like me. I had heard it from his mouth. He wanted his daughter to have a normal life. I am the opposite of normal, and his motivation is obviously as his results show. To keep his daughter free of the Virus. I am the Virus. Stupid doctors.
When Tuesday morning comes, I'm still sulking as I check out at the front desk and step onto the shuttle. I hadn't known Jessica when I had fought so hard to attend high school. Reaching that goal had meant that perhaps I could resume a part of living. The crushing blow on Sunday had taken that future away from me. My classes feel boring and worthless now. I'm not paying attention on my way to Art and bump into someone as I'm walking.
“Hey, jerk!” the big body yells as he whips around. It's Tyson.
“I'm sorry,” I say. I wave toward him and slide away to resume my walk to class. I cinch my backpack tight.
The warning bell rings. I've got two minutes before I'm late.
“Where you going?” asks Tyson.
“I've got to get to class,” I say. “Sorry.”
A hand grabs my wrist and he's there
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