The assignment: Write a 550-600 word fictional story.
The grade: 93/100. My teacher read mine to the class because she thought it was really great. She thinks I have a gift of writing. I have no intentions of becoming a writer.
“Please sir, take a mask” said the flight attendant as I board the aircraft. I think to myself, the statistics say I’ll get sick regardless of wearing it or not. Everyone else seems to have one on, so why should I fall for this? So many people are wearing these things, you would think it was the new fashion trend. I’m not a fan of being rude, so in my always courteous manner, I reluctantly take it. But stick in my bag and forget about it.
As I walk down the narrow aisle, I notice the flight attendant isn’t wearing a mask. She must have the same mindset as me on the situation. I figure, it’s like getting the chicken pox. You might as well subject yourself so you can just get it over with. The reports say up to 20 million could be hospitalized, and 5 million may perish. This is very serious. Why don’t I seem to worry? World leaders will fall. Followers will lead. The world will never be the same. Reports from Brazil say they have run out of hospital beds; as did Mexico and Venezuela. I’m headed home to country with plenty of hospital beds. They will undoubtedly become full quickly, but I’m not all too worried. This may be the last time I leave London. The atmosphere is so tense, and so somber. Every passenger on the plane has their mask on. They look at me as if I’m some sort of criminal because my mask is in my bag, and not on my face.
As I near my row, my seatmates stare at me as if I’m a monster. They don’t want to sit next to a person without a mask on. Sadly for them, I’m taking the middle seat. The older man to my left sneezes, and wipes his face. I look to my right. The slender women begins to make a very raspy and deep throat sounding cough. I realize, this is more serious than I made it too be. As my seatmates creepily stare at me as I fumble through my bag for my mask. I don’t want to get sick. I have a family to take care of. What if I transfer the flu to them? Would they perish to? Why was I so naïve?
The television screens unlock, and fall into position as the flight attendants begin the safety video. The video says “to fasten your seat belt, insert the metal fitting into the buckle and tighten.” I then think to myself, shouldn’t they make a video with instructions on how to properly wear our masks? After all, this is very serious. Millions may die. What’s more important right now? Airplane safety, or flu prevention?
As the ground falls away beneath our aircraft, I begin to think about my children and wife at home. What are they doing? Are they prepared for this? What would I do without them? Losing them to a pandemic could quite possibly be the most painful death for the family to deal with. Am I over thinking this? I’m stuck on this plane for another six hours and twenty-three minutes. All I can think about is what may be happening outside this aluminum can. Is the flu really this serious? Am I crazy to have this silly mask on? Is this all a conspiracy? Now I fall asleep. Sit back fellow seatmates. Calm your nerves. You’ll get over this. It’s just a cold.
Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome.
"Things change, friends leave, life doesn't stop for anybody." -- EAT'EM UP EAT'EM UP KSU!!