An Unexpected Turn of Events

A young girl named Georgia's world suddenly changes with the outbreak of a deadly disease.

When Georgia was jolted awake by her blaring alarm clock, she didn’t have an inkling of what the day would hold. She struggled to keep her tired eyes open as she shoved her blanket off of her and lurched forward, her feet clumsily finding her fluffy slippers. She trudged, blearily, to the bathroom and took a quick look in the mirror. Frowning, she ran her brush through her frizzy, dark hair and brushed her teeth. After she was dressed in a pair of comfy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, Georgia grabbed her car keys and headed out to her trusty car. Despite being right on time, she tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel when she seemed to catch every red light on her way to work. Everything seemed as it should, but she still couldn’t shake the strange feeling in her stomach. She blamed this strange twisty nausea on her forgoing breakfast and tried to focus on the road in front of her.

She was just letting out a sigh of frustration that the traffic light had turned red just before she got there and she had to slam on her brakes, when she heard screams outside her car. Alarmed, she searched for the source of the screaming and saw a handful of people coughing violently and keeling over. Her face paled as she bore witness to the dangerous new epidemic. Those who were not affected screamed and ran, their hands covering their mouths in hopes they would not catch the mysterious illness. Georgia’s hands were quaking and her foot leapt to the gas pedal, her car speeding forward, the red light long forgotten. She ignored the blaring of horns as she wove through the steady stream of traffic. Her actions were frantic, and she didn’t stop for anything (why should she?). She sped past dozens more people who had been unable to stay free of the disease and swerved around stationary vehicles. She heard faint whispers and her heart sped up until she realized she was hearing the radio, which was turned to a low volume. She cranked the dial and listened to the man on the radio drone on about unimportant drama between the hosts. Georgia’s hand twitched, about to turn to another station, when the man’s voice changed, becoming as panicked as she felt.

“I’ve just been alerted to the discovery of a threatening new virus that has been sweeping the streets of numerous cities. Casualties are high and the virus has not yet been identified. The CDC is urging people to stay in their homes and stay away from strangers. I will check back in when we have more information,” the radio host announced, fear evident in his voice. Georgia jerked her steering wheel to the right and hurtled down a side street, desperate to get back to her house.

When she whipped her car back into her driveway, she covered her mouth with her shirt and dashed inside, closing herself off from the world. She sat on her couch, her legs drawn up to her chest as she attempted to process the overwhelming amount of information. The screams were still echoing in the back of her head, and she prayed they would leave her soon. She switched on her television and put on the news. A looped video was playing, saying the same things as the radio host and she left it on in hopes of new news.

She had dozed off when the tv projected a loud siren and she was jolted awake. There was a message displayed on the screen announcing that scientists had been working on some sort of ‘cure’ and they needed volunteers to help finish the development. It urged anyone still uncontaminated to head to the research center at the heart of the city. Georgia got up, found an old t-shirt, and tied it around her head to cover her nose and mouth before sprinting back out to her car. She drove just as recklessly as before, arriving at the research center in just minutes. When she opened the door, she was bombarded by people in hazmat suits who rushed toward her. One of them had a cotton swab clutched in his hand and told her the only way she would be let in is if they got a cheek swab and tested it for disease. She pulled the shirt away from her mouth and gave the sample. The scientists swarmed around the sample and dropped various colored liquids on it before clearing her. She was ushered down a dimly lit hallway and sat down in a waiting room.

“Hello. Thank you for bravely venturing to our facility, we hope that you will be able to help us eradicate this disease. Each of you will be led to a separate room and given the treatment,” said a man who had just walked into the room. He was tall and balding and his hands twitched as he spoke. He glanced around at the couple of people who were seated nervously around the room, but he avoided eye contact. Georgia regretted coming to the facility as she watched the man ramble on, suspiciously. She was then guided to a harshly lit room that smelled strongly of disinfectant and a tinge of something foul and was greeted by a more confident scientist who had a mask over his nose and mouth. She looked around the room, expecting to see an array of syringes and other things that are housed in hospitals, but instead she saw a single glittering blue pill on a napkin and a curtain drawn around a part of the room.

“What’s behind the curtain?” she asked, eyeing the thick fabric. The scientist ignored her as he bustled around the room. He approached her with a small paper cup full of water and handed her the pill. The pill sat menacingly in the palm of her hand and she waited for an explanation. He didn’t give one. She picked the pill up and placed it tentatively on her tongue before washing it down with water. She didn’t feel anything at first, but after a few seconds, her vision began to blur and she started feeling dizzy. She watched, her vision swirling, as the scientist drew the curtain back and revealed a woman lying on a bed. She seemed to be barely alive and she lay there shivering. Georgia was unable to move and she felt her body contorting. The scientist wheeled the woman in the bed over to where Georgia was seated. When they were face to face, the woman seemed to grow and everything turned black.

When Georgia’s eyes fluttered open she was greeted by a pounding headache. She wobbled unsteadily on her feet and her blood ran cold. She was in some sort of thick substance that was glassy grey in color. Georgia felt like she was in Jello and she started to panic, the gel seemingly closing in on her. She struggled to walk a few steps and the substance jiggled with each step she took. She looked around and saw large whitish ovals suspended above her and, bending her knees, she jumped as high as she could. She grabbed one of the ovals and she could see small objects in the ovals. She kept jumping up, trying to get as high as she could, hoping she could find a way out of the gelatinous substance. After using several ovals to climb, Georgia stopped. The substance was surrounded by… a membrane? She thought back to high school and learning about the body and wondered if (no it couldn’t be) maybe the scientists had found a way to shrink her. Maybe she was supposed to find the mystery illness that so many people seemed to be dying from. She looked around her again and figured she must be in some type of cartilage given the thick consistency. She couldn’t remember the types of cartilage very well (definitely something with an ‘H’) and she assumed the ovals were some sort of cells. She jumped off the cell she had been standing on and free fell through the jelly, time seemingly slowed as the substance parted under her weight. She searched every crevice of the cartilage, but she found nothing out of the ordinary. She was starting to climb again when she realized there was no way she could find the disease. If this was cartilage, it wouldn’t have blood vessels so there was no way the virus could have traveled here. She was stuck looking for something she wouldn’t find and no way to get back to her normal size.

Georgia had been sitting in a corner, her thoughts floating aimlessly around her head, when something broke through the membrane. It was long and sharp and its surface was silver and reflective (a syringe?). She backed up, narrowly avoiding being impaled and watched as the syringe released some mean looking cells. The attacker cells immediately latched to the cartilage cells and tore through them. Georgia watched in horror, as the attackers quickly destroyed everything in their path and began advancing towards her. Within seconds, they had swarmed around her and tried to put an end to her, but they couldn’t seem to touch her. Georgia stood up and watched in confusion as they took turns bouncing off of her and each time they were pushed back they seemed to start falling apart. She reached her hand out and touched one, causing it to disintegrate within seconds. In just minutes, she was alone again.

She had been trying to figure out why they hadn’t been able to touch her when she again noticed her vision blurring and her muscles aching. In a flash of black, she was sitting back in her chair in front of the scientist who was furiously scribbling notes in his journal. She watched him look up at her, a look of utter shock and amazement flashed across his face and she sat there, completely untouched. “You survived,” he said, his eyes wide with dangerous curiosity. Georgia’s voice had disappeared and she just sat still as he grabbed a stethoscope and began taking her vitals. “Unbelievable!” he exclaimed, “You’re really immune!” Immune? Immune to what? Her eyebrows were knit together as she pondered how they could know she was immune if they weren’t even sure what the disease was. Unless they did know what it was… unless they created it.