GV9 Avery Multer 8th Grade • Lycée Français de Chicago
Sometimes, I look at the streets, the sky, the desolate little shops with their boarded-up windows and ‘out of business’ signs, and wonder what the hell happened. We weren’t ready. The world wasn’t ready. We had been forced into an inescapable situation, caught tight in the jaws of a global pandemic. And now, the human world was as good as dead. GV9 had been at its prime a little over a year ago, but everyone remaining knew that there would be no recovery this time. This hadn’t been like COVID-19 back in 2020, or even like the Black Plague which I vaguely remember learning about in the sixth grade. Our pandemic had killed two thirds of the world’s population, leaving everyone who was left scrambling to drag themselves together. In 2043 I had lost my mother, father, and little sister to GV9. I had only been 13. Now, I’m 17, living with my aunt in what remains of Seattle. The previously comforting rain, the smell of which I remember from my childhood, now just makes me feel cold. If there was one good thing to come of this, it would be nature’s recovery. I can recall my history teacher telling us about the brief surge in the wildlife’s success during COVID-19’s quarantine, but it seemed like people never learned their lessons. Soon the oceans were once again filled with plastic, and the animals were once again suffering for mankind’s stupidity. But
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