Spores | Teen Ink

Spores

August 27, 2024
By BananaN3rd ELITE, Clarksville, Tennessee
BananaN3rd ELITE, Clarksville, Tennessee
116 articles 15 photos 17 comments

Favorite Quote:
If the pen is stronger than the sword, what am I supposed to do when the pen declares a war?


I don’t remember much about the day when it started. In fact, I can only remember what happened before it started. Lilah and I were sitting at the table discussing viruses and diseases for our AP Biology test later that day. We were just sitting in the cafeteria, peacefully, when it seemed as if our intercom system had broken.

But it wasn’t the intercom. Everyone’s phones, whether on silent or not, went off. Not the noise of an AMBER Alert, or a Tornado Warning. No, this was sporadic and chaotic beeping. I realised only later that it was Morse code. The alert told everyone to get inside, hide, and do not go outside under any circumstances.

It seemed almost amusing to Lilah and I. Like, an emergency? Sure. As long as we didn’t have to take the AP Bio test later, I was fine with bashing the head in on a zombie, or whatever. We were shortly alerted that the emergency was a ‘spore storm’ and everyone outside had likely already been infected. 

All the alert told us was to stay inside, take cover, and stay distanced from people. Only a few had a natural immunity to whatever it was, and those people were to register on some sort of online government platform.

The thing is, no one in the entire school could have predicted how truly bad it was. After locking the doors, we were all told to spread across the school. Each classroom, hallway, and room, had students scattered around. Lilah messaged me soon after in a panic. If I wasn’t scared before, I sure as hell was scared now. Lilah never got scared, even when her own house was burning to the ground.

Someone was pounding on the main entrance, begging to be let in. I could tell, even without seeing her, that she wanted to let the stranger in. And as soon as no one was paying attention, she let the man inside. 

And he paused. Considered his next step. And exploded.

Specks of dust flew across the area, and I rushed out of the room I was in when I heard it. 

Spores.

Hundreds of them, floating around, ready to infect more people. I wanted to bolt and hide back in the safety of my English teacher’s room, but then I noticed Lilah, slightly shaking. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was open. 

But . . . she stopped. Maybe she was just in shock. Perhaps she-

“H-holly . . .” She said slowly, as she turned. “Come c-closer . . .” I booked it, sprinting back to my classroom. 

It was empty. I ran to the next. 

Also empty. I heard nothing. Even stranger was the amount of personal belongings. Phones, wallets, car keys, and bags littered the floors and desks. 

“Holly . . .” Lilah’s voice called out to me, and I grabbed one of the tables, quickly unscrewing one of its legs. I was not going down without a fight.

Lilah did not try to stop me as I bashed her head in.


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