Thursday, February 19, 2015


You never know how afraid you are of being alone until you are cut off from the world not allowed to communicate with one another. It’s crushing to know that no one else is there but you.
“Make sure to stay out of trouble!” Mom yells as I walk out the door.
“No problem!” I scream back.
The bus is slowly coming down the street to avoid slipping on the ice. It’s Monday, the thought hits me like a truck, I slump down a little more. The bus finally comes to my stop. I reluctantly step into the bus. There’s little kids jumping around, screaming something I can’t understand.
I keep walking to the back of the bus, there is a little kid picking his nose back there, so I just sit in the middle. The bus starts moving on it’s way to school. I stare out the window, ignoring everything wrong with the world. I lose myself in the moving scenery and doze off into a daydream.
I don’t wake up from the daydream until the stop of the bus jolts me awake. I get up and start to walk to the front of the bus. I walk past a kid coughing violently and I cringe away from him, I’ve always been a germophobe, just imagining the little monsters makes me sick to my stomach.
I finally make it off the bus and start walking to the front door to the school, then I hear screaming from behind me. I think it’s just the little kids being little kids but when I turn around the kid coughing is on the ground twitching violently. The bus driver jumps out of the bus and picks up the kid and sprints to the school. That’s weird that hasn’t happened before. I think to myself as I make my way to the school again.
After the pretty standard school day, I get home. I walk in the house and hear sniffling in the living room.
“Mom?” I ask.
“Yes?” Mom answers back shakily. I run into the room to see what’s wrong. Mom’s crying on the couch looking at the TV blankly.
I ask, “What’s wrong?”
Mom hesitates to tell me for a second then says, “Dad’s not coming home.”
The words smack me in the face, dad is in the army and is stationed in Kenya fighting against rioters.
I say shakily, “Wh-What?”
“They called today and he was killed in action, fighting against the rebels.”
I cover my face so Mom can’t see me crying. She hugs, but I push her away and storm off to my room. It isn’t fair! I almost never got to see Dad, and now I’ll never see him again! I think to myself as I jump onto my bed. I shove my head into the pillow and forget about everything, the whole world is falling on top of me. I punch my pillows as hard as I can as if that will bring Dad.
After my fit I lay down on my bed and turn on my TV and change it to the news channel.
“The virus SB-91 has evolved past the point of stopping and there seems to be no way to save the remaining survivors but to quarantine them and cut them off from other people in the hopes of saving the human race.”
Great, now everyone else is going to die, perfect! I think sarcastically, I look at my phone and it’s 6:43, dinner! I run into the dining room, and my mom is slouched over eating leftover spaghetti from Tuesday with a blank stare to nowhere in particular. I grab the rest of the spaghetti and sit at the other side of the table. I look down and start eating, I don’t know why I’m mad at Mom; she did nothing, but that’s the problem, she never did anything! She never helped me grow up. She was always in the background, just watching me until she needed to take care of me when Dad left!
With a new reason to not look at Mom I keep eating not dare to look at her. She’s suddenly the symbol of Dad dying only a reminder of his death. She snaps out of her daze and asks,
“How was school?”
“It was normal,” I reply with no emotion.
“That’s good,” she says as if she’s unsure if that’s the right thing to say. She gets up and takes her dish to the sink and washes it. She then walks like a zombie towards her room. With Dad, Mom’s spirit died too.
After I’m done eating I leave the plate and sit on the couch watching a rerun of Full House. I’m not even watching it but I’m looking through the TV for answers. After what feels like an eternity I start dozing off and eventually fall asleep.
I wake up with a jolt and instantly fumble for my phone, I find it and check the time, 10:30! I sprint to my room and find clothes to put on. I find my bag and I’m about to run out the door when I hear a scratchy voice coming from Mom’s room.
“There isn’t school today, honey.”
“Why?” I ask.
Mom replies in a hopeless voice, “You know why, honey.”
I sit on the couch and realize what no school means, no time left. Most of the human race is already dead. I think back to the poor kid on the bus, he was only like six! This is the end of life as we know it. Might as well give up, it wouldn’t make a difference.
Mom sends me out to go get food ,so I start walking to the grocery store. As I’m walking down the sidewalk a couple army trucks pass by. I don’t pay attention to them, but keep walking forward in a daze, not connected to reality. After ten minutes I see the grocery store, but it’s trashed, all the windows are broken and upon closer inspection it’s been cleaned out.
After another 15 minute walk back home I open the door and yell,
“The store was already looted, I’m sorry Mom!”
There’s no answer but the sound of a chair or something falling over in Mom’s room. I run to her door and slowly I open the door. I look up, and I instantly close the door, and run to my room, and jump into my bed. I bury my head in the pillows, and scream at the top of my lungs,
“No! No!”
Mom finally broke, she gave up. I get up out of my bed and start walking toward the front door with no idea what I’m doing. I open the door with a new motivation for something even I don’t know about. I walk the way the army men were driving.
After 20 minutes I come across a line of soldiers in a boundary looking off into the distance into the other side of the neighborhood.
“Hey!” I yell at them getting their attention.
They turn around and one of them says, “Stay back citizen, or we’ll shoot!”

“I’m already dead,” I whisper and run at them. BANG.


  1. This PPOW was really well written. The PPOW also had a lot of action.

  2. This PPOW was action-packed and had a great ending. You did a very good job of putting a descriptive image in the readers head. You are a very good writer.

  3. This PPOW was really good and well written because it had great description. It had a lot of action and a great ending.


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