www.whyville.net Dec 11, 2011 Weekly Issue

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I woke up to the whistling of a teapot downstairs in the kitchen. My limbs wrestled around with my sheets until I finally kicked them totally off the bed. My normal routine of some yoga poses in the morning was interrupted by the doorbell, but just as I was about to leave my room I heard my mom's light footsteps moving towards the door and I resumed. My mom was an intense health-nut and encouraged me to participate in yoga and pretty much anything that was a health trend on E!, but I only agreed to the yoga. My mind became a blank canvas as I focused on becoming the tree barreling its roots, twisting and rolling into the Earth's core. Relaxation. Yet, just as quick as I had become relaxed, everything became frazzled and hysterical. I heard a scream that could wake a dead man. My heart dropped and lost my balance from my warrior pose and I collapsed to the floor. Scooting towards the door and cracking it just a tad, I could hear pretty clearly what was going on.

"DON'T! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU CAN'T TAKE ME AWAY!" my mom screamed. A man with a heavy, tired sounding voice spoke swiftly.

"Ma'am, this is not for discussion. You are infected, we must put you into seclusion. Is there anyone else in the house that is infected?" He sounded as if he had been doing this since for a while.

"NO! Nobody! Let me go!" She was covering for me.

"Dave and Mitch, check the rest of the house, I see a young girl in these pictures."

The sound of heavy footsteps, very unlike my mother's, were spreading around the house. I had to hide. I slid silently across the wood floor over to my closet. I moved the clothes in my hamper on top of my in the farthest corner of my closet so they wouldn't be able to see me and I held my cell phone close to my chest. Then I waited.

It seemed like hours had passed waiting for these two guys to search my room. Suddenly, the door creaked open. I held my breath even though I have asthma so I couldn't hold it long. I felt their presence moving towards the closet.

"This candle is burning, she couldn't have gone far," said one of the men to the other as he opened the closet. I held my body as stiff as I could. He pushed around the clothes on the hangers and grunted. The door creaked one last time and it was quiet again. I let out my breath and held in my tears. What in the world did they want with my mother and me? What do they mean by infected? With what? My mom had been talking about a dry purple and red rash on her hand yesterday, but she called the doctor and he treated it. What was the big deal about a rash? These thoughts were clogging up my rational thinking. A large crash downstairs shook the floor, there was the sound of some glass breaking and then the door slammed shut.

I pushed off my smelly old clothes that my mom asked me to wash weeks ago and ran out of my room and down the mahogany stairway. The picture of my mom and I from Christmas last year was face down on the ground on top of a pile of shattered glass. This is the only picture that I had smiled for in a while. I was such a rotten child to her sometimes. My eyes welled as I pulled the picture from the frame, folded it, and ran back upstairs. I knew I had to get out of here. They knew I lived here and they would be back to get me when school would be out. Luckily, I was supposed to do volunteer hours today and wouldn't have gone until 11. Not like that matters now. I knelt next to my bed and shuffled around my old boxes until I found my dull colored bag. I tossed in as many pants and shirts as I could fit and slipped a couple hair ties on my wrist and shoved a couple down the side of the bag. I decided I should change from my yoga gear into something warmer, so I grabbed some brown skinny jeans from my floor and a mustard yellow, fringed tank top from my desk chair. My gray striped hoodie rested on top of my bag while I piled in a couple pairs of shoes and my toothbrush. My phone was in my pocket with my wallet and keys so I grabbed my bag and stumbled out to the car while I tried to slip on my boots.

It was surreal what was happening, going out on my own. I was only 16. After driving for only 10 minutes, I was thinking about my mom. If there is such a virus or infection that is so bad, they must be working on a cure. Suddenly, the radio turned to breaking news.

"Infection has claimed over 2,000 people in the North West area. Symptoms include itchy purple and red rash on the hands and feet, dark circles under the eyes, achy arms, and loss of muscle use in the hands. These are just symptoms that appear in the first few days, later symptoms consist of blurry vision, hysteria, bleeding of the eyes, and loss of hearing, even death."

I started to hyperventilate. It took me two minutes rifling through my bag to find me inhaler and at least 10 minutes to calm myself. As I was putting my inhaler back in my bag, I noticed something. The skin on my hand was bubbling up and down, like a snake writhing underneath. I touched it with my other hand to find that it was on both. I unbuckled my seat belt with my shaky hands and pulled to the side of the highway.

I need to find a cure.


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