Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
WRITING OBSTACLE
Submitted by Ben T
You wake up with the ability to SEE coronavirus. What do infected people look like?
Be creative with your descriptions!
Writings
It started on Halloween, so we all thought it was a joke. Coronavirus has been on the rise since late 2019 and it was followed by a series of odd events, such as new 5g towers, UFO evidence from the PENTAGON, murder hornets, and a star goes missing. Now I know I probably sound like every other conspiracy theorist, but I'm not. I’m a historian, and my name is Famida Michi Veda, and it means a smart righteous way. Please trust that I have thoroughly investigated all facts that will be revealed, no matter how surprising they may seem.
in November 2019, i was investigating UFO claims i saw on reddit, despite popular belief, it is a greatly reliable source. if you know where to look. I came across a file that stated that aliens had made noticeble contact with our planet, but considering they came on the eerie and purposefully deciptful holiday of halloween at first sight people assumed there was going to be new trend for halloween and it was just super exclusive so that was the reason for the imperceptible regalia. the beings were of varied sized like humans with similar outer anatomy; two arms, two legs a head, breast for females, beards or mustaches for males, but they werrent creatures youd want to see first thing in the morning after breakfast. It was easy to distinguish the invaded or infected because they took on the extremes of our races in order to create a new natural order. The invaded were diffrent from the infected because the infected became the new lows of society. they typically were dwarflike and jiggly, kinda like the musinex commercial. They had condesending attitues and no concept for their ACTUAL place in the order, considering their appearance had change to the eyes of everyone but themselves. They ended up getting fired from work which plumeted the econony and most of the troll like creatures ended up living off the government or homeless, even up until now.
The invaded were almost godlike, they were moutainous in height, their heads seemed to sweep the heavens. They could have successfully invaded earth without revolt had they conformed and outwardly changed our society if they had chose the invaded beings differently, but they never said they came in peace. The invaded were BLACK, not pompous, upity black, but the definition of what happens when you give hoodrats money. They were dripped in gold and diamonds, they dominated every business platform known to man from the presidency to prostitution, within the first month of their invasion. they gave reparations to every wronged group of people from the decendants of the western slave trade and trail of tears to the liberation of the enslaved Libians and rights of women all over the world.
All of this sounds great but these beings had their own agenda and it has only begun. I have sucessfully infultrated their internal network where they give and trade information to and from the queen.
It was starting to be a sick habit of mine nowadays: sitting in my darkened apartment, scrolling through Twitter, wading through hashtags and halting at a video.
I wasn’t here for the comments, the memes. I wasn’t even for the entitlement the Karen in the video displayed. She was just as unremarkable as the rest: she was clearly vying for an even tan, but had ended up with a sunburnt splotch over khaki-colored skin; a shirt that was maybe from a Target; shorts that revealed thin and surprisingly pale legs and sandals. Still, I don’t think I had seen a face look that red.
Didn’t turn on the sound. What would I hear?Maybe if this was in a gas station I might’ve hit the speaker icon; maybe there would’ve been a fight. Sadly, Karens barked more in Whole Foods.
Still. I could imagine what was said: “My rights, my rights!” But ooooh, if only this bitch knew. If only she could see it.
But, still; she raged.
And, still; I watched.
Googling coronavirus to see it on a molecular level made it look almost pretty. Like one of those rubber stress balls with the fringe you could peel. But from Karen’s mouth, it was a plume of almost smoke. And like the other videos I had watched, it rose into the air slowly, like it was heavy with its own pollution... She yelled and out came more, a mushroom cloud that didn’t know how to be, wrapping around her ears and neck. It was like a shawl like no other; spit flecked her shirt.
Still, it didn’t hide the wild, unjustifiably outraged look to her eyes and the stained corners of her mouth.
It was a relief to see the masked Whole Foods workers with blue gloves and jungle print shirts crowd around her. They were kinda like thunderbirds beating their wings to rid the air of the Karen’s plague.
‘If only, if only,’ I thought as my eyes trailed to my blinds. But it seemed like the clouds were here to stay.
When the first patient came to the hospital, it was like something out of movie.
Bloodshot eyes stared into seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once.
Slow breaths rasped from lips as blue as violets. Chapped and torn.
Purple dots ravaged their skin, radiating a chill through all who were near.
A rash like no other plagued the hands, at which grabbed at those who came close.
Almost claw like tears featured the patients throat. You could almost see right through.
Underneath the patients skin slithered a black web. It spread across their chest, tightening and loosening with each breath.
I’ve seen desasieses. But it was like nothing I’ve ever witnessed before. We had no cure. No vaccine. There was nothing I could do. I’ve only heard of it on the news. It started in China, then it began to spread.
I walked over to the counter in which I leaned. My head went spinning, the color draining from my face as I whispered.
“So this is COVID-19...”
I opened the door to my car and quickly sat down on the driver’s seat. I needed to run to the store to buy some groceries and dinner, and I’d been procrastinating all day. It was 7:00 in the afternoon. I turned the key to start the ignition before exiting the garage. I soon found myself in the parking lot of the local grocery store.
I put on my mask and headed toward the automatic doors. The wall there seemed normal at first. People, some of which I know, walking to and from their cars. Some wore masks. Others didn’t. I made it into the store and made my was through the isles. When I walked down the shampoo isle, my heart nearly stopped.
I saw a young woman, likely in her early twenties, completely covered in a substance which looked like syrup. It slowly dripped onto the floor and stained anything she touched. Purple dust-like particles gently emitted and floated in the air around her. After a few moments a worker from the store approached her and asked if she needed anything. As she replied no, a few of those purple particles flew toward him. They remained with him as he walked away. Neither of them wore a mask.
The shampoo I needed sat directly to my right, so I grabbed it and quickly dashed away without coming too close to the girl. I had no idea why she appeared the way she did, but I wanted no part of it.
More people similar to her were down different isles. One man shook hands with another who had this, and the syrup substance oozed between them. Some shelves were completely drenched with whatever this liquid was, and I tried my best to avoid it.
Eventually I maneuvered around the store and found everything I needed to buy. As the cashier was scanning my groceries, one of my close friends came through the door. She had the purple dust entering and exiting her nose with every breath, and the brown fluid was everywhere on her; it soaked her hair, coated her eyes, leaked from her mouth. The sight was disturbing to say the least.
We made eye contact and she waved before picking up her pace and extending her arms, signaling a hug. I didn’t want whatever she had on my body, but she’s the time who doesn’t take no for an answer. Before I could come up with an excuse her arms extended around me. I could feel the substance leaking through the fabric of my clothes.
The cashier rang up my total and I gave a short goodbye before rushing out of the doors. Once I was in my car I took off my mask and grabbed a towel to try and wipe off the fluid. Some of it came off, but it stained the clothes I was wearing. Some got in my mouth. Two weeks later, I tested positive for Coronavirus.
They say, everyday holds the possibility of miracles, but I don’t think this is what they meant. Walking the streets with a mask firmly placed on my face I look around at the people around me. It’s truly sad, horrific even to be able to see just how many people are effected by the virus.
The worst is that your age changes how you look, the infants the most innocent of them all are blue, a sickly blue grey with bloodshot eyes as they fight to get even a single breath in. You don’t hear the suffering but you see it on their face they probably won’t survive.
Teens and young adults they look like rats with large mushrooms growing out their back, drool and mucous dripping down their flushed faces. Every cough they try to hide causes a plume of spores you erupt around them. They truly look like the plague rats we joked about.
Middle aged adults they look the most normal, that is until they cough. They age so quickly they look so tired, so weak. It won’t be long until they withered and grey and laying on their own death bed.
The most heart breaking of them all is the elderly. They’re not even whole anymore. Rotted corpses with bloody bones poking through thin flesh. They’re the closest to death, already rotted and nothing to help. I can never look to long at them it’s both sickening and heartbreaking.
A cure is what we need. Better precautions is what we needed. Less selfish people is what we needed. None of that is what we have and now I have to walk the streets with the knowledge I’m watching people die of a virus that could have been over had we taken it more seriously.
I looked up from my book to see a young gentleman take the seat across from me.
My insides began to churn as I was not expecting any company, especially one that was sitting so....close.
I glanced down at his blue and green polk-a-dot mask. I smiled underneath mine.
The mask didn’t suit him at all.
I continued to scrutinize him closely, making sure to look for the telling sign of the infection.
Ever since I’ve been able to physically see the infection on people, I’ve been extremely on edge.
I have managed to avoid eye contact with almost everyone, even the people closest to me.
“Sorry to impose” he finally spoke. His rough voice shook me out of my trance.
“I am waiting for my wife, and there were no other seats available” he continued.
“No worries” I said softly.
He didn’t have the virus. I relaxed in my seat.
A few minutes later the man arose and walked past me to a woman and child. His wife I assumed.
I turned my head to take a good look at them. I zoned in on the wife and child. They were facing my direction.
I zeroed in on their faces, hoping my 20/20 vision didn’t fail me. From what I could tell they didn’t have the virus either.
Good for them.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone else in the cafe.
The virus was everywhere, but I really wanted a coffee and bagel.
I turned my attention back to my book.
I was getting to the part where Elizabeth was about to encounter Mr. Darcy, when a tan, well-manicured hand entered my line of vision. The hand placed my coffee on the table, along with my bagel.
“Here’s your order, babe” the waitress chimed. My eyes ran up her arm and landed on her name tag.
Madison.
“Thank y-“ I began to speak but my words died in my throat as my gaze landed on her face.
My face paled as I continued to stare at her.
The intensity of my gaze must have caused her discomfort because she began to shuffle her feet.
“Um, is—is there anything else I could get you?” her voice wavered.
I saw it.
The ring encircled her pupils emanating a faint crimson glow.
My throat went dry.
“Madison, I suggest you go to the doctor today” I whispered so only she could hear.
Her eyes widened in concern. Her black mask hid her facial expression very well, but I could tell that she was scared.
Before she could do or say anything else, I pulled a 20 dollar bill out of my clutch and set it on the table. “Keep the change” I told her.
I gave her a small genuine smile, grabbed my book, and stood up.
I walked away from the table, my coffee and bagel untouched.
I sit up in my bed and look out the window. The sun has just begun to crest over the treetops, and the rays of sunshine stretch over the land. I get up, and after changing, walk downstairs. There’s no one in the house but me. I make some toast, and eat quickly, I have to get to work soon.
After breakfast I hop in the car and turn the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life, and slowly crawls forward onto the almost abandoned road. Few people are awake at this time of day, so traffic is light as I make my way to work. I drive on the highway for thirty minutes, all the while thinking about how sad today will be. Standing next to lonely patients, watching the life drain out of them as you stand there and do nothing. The facility I work at is one designated to COVID-19 patients. Who are on the verge of dying. It’s kind of like a slaughterhouse-if you’re sent there you know you’re gonna die.
I pull into the driveway of my workplace and turn the car off. I sit there for a minute, thinking more morbid thoughts. Finally I get out. I walk into the building, say good morning to the receptionist, and head to my office. On the way there, I see two doctors hurriedly rolling a bed across the room. The patient in the bed looks strange. He has little yellow dots all over him. And they’re moving. Curious, I follow him to wherever he’s being taken. The doctors roll him into a room, then one of them picks up the phone to call someone. Probably me. I walk into the room. One of the doctors turn to me with a surprised face and says, “Dr. Lake, you got here fast. The patient is almost dead. His name is Joshua Kanoski. You know what to do.” She turns to leave. “Doctor,” I say slowly, “ why does Mr. Kanoski have yellow dots all over his body?” She turns towards the patient and looks at him. Finally she looks up at me, “What do you mean? His skin is perfectly normal.” Shocked, I look at the patient again. The yellow dots are still there, still moving. But even though I still see them, I say, “Sorry, Doctor, must have been a trick of the light.” She looks at me strangely one last time before leaving with the other doctor.
Two hours later, I leave the room. Mr. Kanoski is dead. When he died, his lungs were full of yellow dots. I wonder what it means, the yellow dots. And why no one else can see them. I walk, not knowing where I am going. I stumble into a room full of patients. It’s the welcoming room. New patients come here when they are are first admitted here. I glance up at them, then gasp. They all have little yellow dots on them.
I’m walking down the street. People are passing me on my left and right. It seems like any other day. I stop. Something is different. There are people in the crowds. People who seem... different. They walk along surrounded by a mist. The very air they breathe seems to cloud up with colour. Greens, blues, purples. In, out. In, out. The mist seems to be spreading. Dissipating through the crowd. It reaches someone else. They breathe it in... and they change. They too start breathing clouds of colour. It’s spreading. I suddenly don’t want to be in the crowd. I turn and try to walk away, but... I’m surrounded. The mist is everywhere, all around me. The miasma approaches.
I wake. Where am I? What is that noise? What is that smell? It’s antiseptic. I know where I am. I open my eyes and see the world around me. It’s stark and bare. I’m surrounded by people in masks and goggles. The miasma is still here. It’s fearsome power is ravaging humanity.
She had yellow patches all over her body. Not that of sunflowers and egg yolks, but a grayish green hue that flared up every now and then when she coughed.
It felt like it was alive, pulsating with a life of its own. It was in constant motion, making its way to different body parts, sometimes resting, sometimes moving on.
She could barely breathe, it was no wonder given how her whole left lung and parts of the right one too, was covered with yellow goo, bubbling and eating away at the lung tissue.
It seemed like a very small but very powerful alien invasion.
Similar writing prompts
WRITING OBSTACLE
The days of the week are based on real people's character traits. Describe a day of the week through a character.
For example, Monday might be depressed, while Friday might love partying!
WRITING OBSTACLE
Write a story where an object that is inconspicuously mentioned early on is a key element of the plot towards the end of your story.
Using an object is an easy way to foreshadow an idea, but you could also try using something else like dialogue, or another character, to foreshadow your plot.