What is written below is a creative, fiction story. It came from a nightmare, so read at your own risk.
I never believed things could change in the blink of an eye. You’re always warned about it, but no one believes it. Well, the whole world changed and yet I can’t feel a thing. Everything is gone or might as well be. So why should I care? The nurses rush around calling for help with every patient that comes pouring in. I’m lucky, I guess. I somehow got away. But the man on the gurney over there didn’t. His mouth is filled with green foam. Blisters the size of baseballs pummel his skin and his eyes only stare straight ahead. There’s plenty more like him. Plenty more people are being ushered in with bursting blisters and foaming mouths and there’s nothing the nurses can do to help them. The whole world is in an utter state of panic. Yet, here I am, sitting on this hospital bed and I don’t care one bit.
It started out a day like any other. My day off work and my brother surprised my mom and me by showing up for dinner. My sister-in-law and my one-year-old niece too. When my brother walked into our split level house, his hands were full of baby stuff. He asked why there was a red sticker on the door and my mom explained that some solicitor came by, ignored our “no solicitors” sign, and that he must have placed it there when we sent him off. We didn’t bother to take that sticker down, but we should’ve.
The evening continued with fun banter, family updates, and we all sat around the table to share my mom’s delicious cooking. In the middle of the meal, I saw someone come in through the front door (my brother left it unlocked so he could go smoke) and bolt down to the basement. Both my brother and I got up. I recognized the man as the solicitor from earlier. My brother heads into the basement to confront him and I wait at the top of the stairs with a fork in my hand like it was some sort of weapon.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying in the basement, but I did hear my brother pull his gun out and threaten the man. I didn’t even know he had his gun on him. My mom, sister-in-law, and niece were still in the dining room and I told them not to worry. However, something outside caught my eye and shivered anxiety in my stomach.
It was a firefighter. A firefighter dressed in all his gear was limping in the front yard, coming from the side of our house. He was dragging a hose and I couldn’t see his face. I walked over to the front window and my mouth dropped open at the sight outside. I remember my mom calling from the dining room, asking what was going on and I told her: “The house across the street is on fire.”
It was in utter flames. Every window and every door was filled with a roaring inferno. But what’s more is that people were running, screaming, and crying as they ran down the street. Firemen were trying their best to put the fire out while people ran in a terrified frenzy around them. Some other authorities were trying to usher people into the glass house up the street. Many of them had cloths covering their mouths.
I told my mom and sister-in-law to wait inside and I headed out to investigate. Black smoke from my neighbor’s house filled the night, but in the distance, I saw green fog clouds rolling between houses. There was a News reporter by the curb, so I wandered over to listen in.
She spoke of a radical group with no name. They were running around the city causing riots and throwing bombs of an unknown substance. She repeatedly said “Don’t breathe the green gas.”
My mind was still whirling. Don’t breathe the green gas. Did she mean the green gas rolling through the streets?! I never thought something like this could happen so close to my home. You always see it on the News, happening in far away places, but this…this was literally happening in my front yard. Then, I spotted them. I was so horrified that I didn’t even think to scream in warning. Six people came running from up the street. Each of them wore green clovers on their shirts and they carried brown paper sacks that oozed with green fog. They didn’t wear any masks which told me they were committed to die for this destruction. Yet, what scared me the most was that two of them were children.
I held my breath in waiting for them to throw the bombs, but they just stood like corpses staring at all the chaos. Then, one of the kids finds my house and the little red sticker on the front door.
“NO!” I screamed, but no one heard. As I was turning to run back to the house and warn my family, an explosion sounded from the inside and suddenly the house was oozing with the green gas. The solicitor. He must have been carrying a bomb and my brother couldn’t take it from him. “NO!” I screamed again. I tried to run into the house, but somebody grabbed my arms. I fought with every sobbing breath, but I couldn’t break free from whoever had me. I can still feel the burn of the tears from when they rolled down my face. Why my family? What did they ever do to anyone?!
I don’t remember what happened next except for a lot of kicking and screaming. They said it was the firefighter who brought me to the hospital, but I don’t remember seeing him. I was placed on a hospital bed. The nurses gave me some shot to calm me down, but I just feel as dead as the man in the gurney. I can’t go back home. It’s too dangerous with the gas contaminating everything. The News reporter on the TV says these riots are occurring all over the globe. The green gas is spreading and wiping out populations, but no one can identify the group causing it.
I know they have an affinity for clovers and they use little red stickers to pick their targets. I still have the fork in my hand. The only thing I have left from home. My hand tightens around it. This radical group took away everything from me. Everything but this fork. So I’m going to plunge it into the eye of whoever leads them.