Personal Narrative: The Sasser Virus

Improved Essays
This week has been crazy; all you could see in the news is about this stupid Sasser virus. I honestly don’t know how to feel about this. I am a bit scared…or maybe worried. Yeah, worried is a better term. The National Health and Safety Corporation said they would be able to give us more information about the virus in time as they study it. I hope this is just another temporary scare. But some good is coming out of it--my sister Camilla who lives with my aunt and uncle in Idaho is coming down here to stay. Our parents believe it would be safer, just in case this virus lasts longer than expected.
So I was wrong… I was so wrong. The virus is worse and deadlier than I thought, to go into detail. The Sasser virus was started in East Asia by a mutant
…show more content…
Camilla and I went to the woods to get some wood for a campfire. We were so stupid. I was stupid. As we were walking I kept hearing the rustle of leaves. I felt apprehensive for some reason and told Camilla we should go back to camp, but she scoffed. Truthfully, I’d always been the more paranoid sibling. Feeling silly, I pushed away the feeling. We got deeper and I could hear more branches crackling and I could smell rot like rotten flesh. Camilla said it was probably a dead animal. She bent down to grab another solid branch when a surprisingly agile infected one launched out of the bushes, pinning her to the ground. I screamed. So did she, hitting and punching it away from her. I ran towards her as fast as I could manage, fumbling for my pistol and screaming, “Camilla, move your hand!” I fired it right in the crown of its head. It jerked backwards and fell. I helped Camilla up and we ran back to camp. I immediately took her to the medical center. They examined her for scars or bite marks. Eventually, I had to leave her there. I’m going to go check up on her tomorrow. I hope she’s okay. If I lose my sister, I lose me. I’ll be …show more content…
How could I possibly have to decide how my sister dies? I knew something had to be done but why do I have to make the decision? I thought about it. The doctor gave me a day, and I finally decided to do it myself. I was sure she’d prefer it that way. Numbly, I walked to her room saw her laid out on a stretcher. I picked up the syringe that was on the table and took one last look at my dying sister. Swiping her hair away from her face, I kissed her on the forehead before whispering in her ear, “I-I’m so sorry, Camilla. I’ll always love you.” I held her arm and slowly pushed the needle into her vein. I watched deadly liquid seep into her blood, and I began to cry silently. As soon as it was over, I quickly left the medical center, but didn’t get more than two feet out of the door before collapsing, a heap of

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