The International Writers Magazine: Dreamscapes

---

The Virus • Lisa Timmermann Kit got out of her car and immediately felt like killing someone when she saw Jonathan sitting on the stairs of their school and flirting with her nemesis. She’d had quite a good day so far, and hadn’t even thought about him for a second until this very moment. Since it was over, she’d promised herself to never waste a single thought on that bastard again. Unfortunately, this was proving rather impossible as they still happened to attend the same school.

Kit took a long breath to calm herself, locked her car, and crossed the street. She lifted her shoulders as she walked past them. She couldn’t help but look at him for a split second, and was shocked to see that he was looking extremely ill. For a moment, she felt sorry for him. Then, anger took over again. He didn’t even notice her, that’s how busy he was pretending to listen to Tara whilst staring at her enormous breasts. In a perfect world, he would shout after her and beg her to forgive him. But nothing like that ever happened to her. Kit couldn’t believe that only three weeks ago they’d still been happy together. Well, relatively happy anyway. When she entered the classroom, she noticed that not a single head rose or turned to look at her. She sighed and sat down in one of the chairs by the windows.

In this claustrophobic environment, she needed to at least feel like she was getting some fresh air. Only twenty minutes into the class did she notice that something was off. Something about everyone else in the room. Everyone – even the super-nerds in the front row – seemed to be falling asleep. Nobody was paying (or pretending to pay) any attention to Mr. Black, who didn’t seem to notice as he apparently wasn’t in the best shape either. His forehead and shirt were sweaty and his eyes looked slightly zombie-like. Also, though Kit hadn’t really been listening herself, she got the impression that he kept repeating himself. Then, ten minutes before the end of class, Rick entered the room. He looked hung-over, but still more awake than the others. When he looked around and saw that almost everybody had their eyes closed, he seemed slightly worried. He stared at Mr. Black who was half-lying, half-sitting in his chair and lethargically repositioning his notes in an obviously senseless rhythmical motion. Rick glimpsed at Kit and gestured for her to come out of the room. She’d never liked him. He was a moron. But for some reason, the look in his eyes made her curious enough to follow his suggestion. Besides, the atmosphere in that room was beginning to seriously freak her out. Once she was in the hallway, Rick grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the building.
"What the hell’s going on?" Kit demanded, unsuccessfully trying to pull his hand off her.
"Don’t panic…" Rick sounded like the protagonist of a disaster movie. She struggled not to laugh out loud. "There’s something seriously wrong with this place", he continued. "They found something strange in the cellar below the classrooms, nobody wanted to say what. There’s a rumour it triggered some kind of virus. A bad one."

Kit burst into laughter. He shook his head. She noticed that he didn’t change expression and turned silent.
"You don’t have to believe me. But I think it’s bad. And I’m definitely not gonna stay here and wait to get killed."
"Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too seriously?" Kit smirked.
"Did you pay any attention to the people in your class?" Rick retorted.
"So what? They were hung-over or stoned or whatever, why would I care? It’s just a coincidence, you paranoid freak."
"Well, think whatever you want. For all I know, you might be infected already, so I better get away from you. Good luck. I’m gonna go and get the sensible ones out of here." Rick turned around and walked off towards the next university building.

Kit started to feel strange. He was a loonie, she wouldn’t believe anything he said. But there was always the shadow of a doubt… What if it was true? That would probably be the scariest thing to ever happen to her. She decided to shake off those thoughts and drive back home. Just as she was climbing into her car, she heard someone scream. She jumped and turned around. A group of people was standing around something she couldn’t see, each of them looking shocked. A girl started crying. Kit felt like driving away as fast as possible, but her damn conscience wouldn’t let her. She got out and ran over.
"What happened?"

Nobody responded. She shoved the crying girl aside and looked at Jonathan’s dead body. He could have just passed out, but for some reason, she knew instantly that he was dead. He looked too inhuman to still be alive. As if every bit of energy had been sucked out of him. She swallowed and turned away. Fighting her urge to vomit, she stumbled away from the scene, back to her car. For a moment she was sure she’d faint, but then the darkness before her eyes started to vanish and she managed to get into her car, start the engine and drive off. She needed to see that mum and dad were all right. And her best friend Cate, who hadn’t come to school today. Kit decided to call her as soon as she got home.

When her mother saw her, she flinched. "Kit, honey, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I just need some water. Something happened at our school. Jonathan’s dead."
"What? Oh my God, darling that’s awful. I’m so sorry." Her mother took her in her arms. Any other time, Kit would have burst into tears. This time, she couldn’t. She figured that was a good sign: Jonathan’s life didn’t seem to matter to her anymore. Nonetheless, she stayed in her mum’s arms and pretended to grieve for him.
"Honey, you’ve got a visitor. Your friend Tara - is that her name?"
"Tara?" Kit felt a stabbing pain in her chest. "You let her in?"
"Why? Shouldn’t I have?"
"No!" Kit screamed, panicking. She ran into the lounge and saw Tara hanging over the sofa, a pool of blood on the floor below her. Kit gasped. She couldn’t remember ever having felt this much regret for hating someone. And suddenly she understood how much she’d pondered and worried and felt envious about the most irrelevant things – and people – when she should have just enjoyed her time alive.

© Lisa Timmermann November 2007
lisa.timmermannat gmail.com>

Dreamscapes stories

Home

© Hackwriters 1999-2007 all rights reserved - all comments are the writers' own responsibiltiy - no liability accepted by hackwriters.com or affiliates.