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Locked-down: Part 2

I hope you guys are eagerly waiting for the next part in this series. πŸ™‚ The story gets bigger and better today.

By the way, I am turning thirty today! πŸ˜€

Part 1 is here.


Did I tell you my colleagues are dead? Maybe I did. I tend to repeat myself but seriously, who cares. It’s just me. I am tired of talking to myself and loathe for some company. As a loner, I was used to being all by myself. But now, I am literally alone. Haha! Did you see what I did there? I made a joke. Nobody’s around to laugh so I will crack as many jokes as I please. Muhahaha!

My search for an antidote is going well. You guys must think I have beakers full of colorful bubbling liquids in my basement. Let me tell you, that is not the case. It happens only in the movies. I injected my latest sample into the last lab rat ten minutes ago. I am monitoring it from my living room and so far, the lab rat is alive. Fingers crossed.

It might take some time for the rat to exhibit changes, so let me tell you guys about my survival tactics.

Like I said before, I am a hoarder. I have cans of diet coke, fish and jams, packets of crisps and biscuits in my kitchen pantry. My spare bedroom is filled with bottles of packaged drinking water and serial packs of cereals. (I made another joke there!) An industrial freezer lies in my garage, filled with frozen vegetables and meat. Drums filled with bleach and disinfectants occupy the other half of my garage. I have two cupboards full of biscuits, crisps and chocolates in the kitchen. And some more in my bedroom cupboard. The living room is filled with books and DVDs. I might be a loner but I love watching FRIENDS.

I have a King-sized bed in my bedroom but I love sleeping on the couch. I had a pet dog until last week. As a researcher in the medical field, I need to test my samples on living things. My last sample worked on the lab rat so I injected my pet dog with the same sample. The poor bugger died a minute later. Hence, the new sample. I don’t grieve. I buried the dead mutt in my neighbor’s backyard. Whatcha gonna do? Complain? To whom? Na-na-na-na-na.

As soon as the announcement of the virus outbreak was made, I took every precaution not to venture out of the house. I wore protective gear, fumigated my place, paint-shut the windows and sealed the door. Nobody goes out nor comes in. Ain’t I a genius. Well, I am making an Antidote so you better agree with me!!

I have been injecting myself with hydroxychloroquine every day since the outbreak. This particular medicine is used to treat malaria but so far, it’s doing its work of keeping me safe. It does not work on infected people, though. I tried it on a lab rat, nope, didn’t work!

For those who are worried about where the dog did its business during my self-imposed lock-down: The dog was potty trained. Thanks for asking! Or, not asking! Information is bliss!

I… ooh, the monitor is beeping. I rub my hands in anticipation and stare at my computer screen. Okay, this is strange. The lab rat has developed pus-filled boils all over its body. Yuck! It’s going to be a mess when I clean. I am a germaphobe. I have to ration the disinfectants for the next few days. I am so busy with this antidote thingy I have no time to make a fresh batch of bleach or disinfectant. Living alone might not be the best thing. Or maybe it is. I do not have to deal with sweaty or farty people anymore.

The lab rat is gasping for its breath. Okay, I think it is going to die… I… shit, what was that!! Did you see that?? Did you effing see that? The rat exploded. The glass cage is filled with rat goo. Or rat mess. Or whatever you call an exploded rat. EXPLODED!! Wowza! Good news: I don’t have to clean the cage. I will dispose it the next time I go out. Bad news: my latest work was a fail. Never mind time for some crisps and a movie – Contagion. The apt movie given the situation outside. Muhahahaha!

Next morning

I am in a grumpy mood; I woke up with a stiff neck. I shouldn’t have watched that movie. It made me paranoid. I washed my hands ten times already and it’s just been an hour since I woke up. My neck is hurting like hell. I took a painkiller but the bloody thing hasn’t helped. I feel nauseous. I hate everything!

I go to the basement to clean up the mess. I switch on the lights and inhale the fragrant aroma of chemicals. The salty, sour-ish smell with a tinge of bitterness, mmm…

The glass cage is a complete mess. A bloody mess! I pick it up, turn around and… ouch! I banged my knee. This day just got better. I hate it. I hate everything. Bloody neck. I wish I could wring my neck to stop the pain, I wish Dr Ond did not exist. I wish I did not exist. I hate it. I hate it all. I throw the glass cage. It crashes onto the wall and shatters into a million pieces, spreading the rat mess and broken glass all over.

I… I can’t breathe. It’s a panic attack. I can’t…

Fifteen minutes later

Phew! I took some deep breaths and I feel better now. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Now I have more things to clean up. Since the outbreak, I am finding it difficult to keep my emotions in check. I was diagnosed with bipolar years ago. The bipolar meds make me drowsy and this is not the time to be drowsy. I need to work on the cure. I am pretty sure there are survivors out there, waiting for someone to find a cure. I am going to be their savior. I am going to be the next God. Bless you, my dear children!

I bring a broom, dustpan and a garbage bag from the storeroom and start to clean up the rat and broken glass mess. I tie the garbage bag and keep it near the stairs.

I have to start preparing the next batch of antidote. I check my notebook for the formula and walk to the cabinet where I store all my chemicals. One of the bottles is nearly empty. That’s strange. I remember seeing it half full the other day. See, I am being an optimist today, I saw the bottle ‘half full’.

I look at my notebook again. I added four parts of hydroxyzine instead of two. Sheesh! How can I make such a mistake? I am such a loser. I am a failure. Over-confident jackass. I am not worth it. I cannot do it! I failed. I always will fail. FAILURE!!!

My mum’s voice rings in my head. As a kid, she never encouraged me to do what I love. All she did was whine and complain. Called me unworthy, undeserving and a burden. She wished she hadn’t given birth to me. All this because her husband left her for another woman. As if that was my fault! I hated myself every single day. I wished I was dead. But I wasn’t brave enough to kill myself. To my dead mother, I hate you. I hate you for making me hate me. I hate you! HATE YOU!

I bang the cabinet door shut and the glass bottles inside rattle. I must keep my anger in check. I cannot afford to lose all these chemicals. Speaking of which, I need to pay a visit to the research facility and grab a few things.

I go to my bedroom and rummage my cupboard for fresh clothes. I change into blue jeans and a black shirt. I comb my messy shoulder-length hair and tie it with a rubber band. I wear a fresh pair of socks, I love colorful socks, thank you for not asking! I stuff my feet into my favourite canvas sneakers and walk to the garage.

My apocalypse suit hangs on a hook in the garage. I wear the overalls, booties on my sneakers, a headgear with a mask to breath, glasses to protect my eyes and finally gloves. I decide to walk to the research facility. It is about two miles from my place and I need a walk to clear my head. I lost my temper twice this morning. Okay, once and almost lost it the second time. I lock the garage door and place the keys below a potted plant.

Oops! I forgot to take the trash! I walk back in, murmuring to myself. A few minutes later, I am back on my driveway, holding the garbage bag I left at the stairs this morning.

As I walk towards the research facility, I look around. As I reach Mr Garreth’s house, I see a shadow behind the curtains. I stop walking and hold my breath. The garbage bag slips from my hand and falls on the tarred road with a plop! Mr Garreth was the first one to die on our street. Is someone else living in his house? Do I need to be careful? That person might be a killer, for all I know. I stand still and look at the closed window. No shadow. Should I go in and check?

I take a step further and heave a sigh. I decide to go in and have a look. If someone is alive and healthy, they might have found the antidote. If not, they might have a really good immune system – and this might help me in my research. I anyways need a human being for the drug trial at some point of time.

I walk in and see the door slightly open. “Hello, anybody home?” I shout. No response. “I am coming in. I am unarmed. Don’t shoot me,” I say, raising my hands. I use my feet to push open the door. The door creaks as it opens.

I enter the foyer and look around. It looks like there was a tornado in here. Paper is strewn across, furniture upturned and the TV is on the floor, shattered to pieces. I hear something behind me. Whoosh whoosh… and the door bangs shut. I scream…

To be continued…

17 thoughts on “Locked-down: Part 2 Leave a comment

  1. Wish you a very very happy birthday….
    Oh girl, find the antidote soon. Rat exploded? Do you have other rats? Does Peta know you are doing this? Hehehe

    Great post. Now I am looking forward to next part

    • Thank you so much, LaurieπŸ™‚πŸ§‘πŸ’— You too stay safe. I am just a DM away if you feel like chatting. πŸ™‚πŸ™‚

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