Andrew Li, 11Ann Arbor, MI A Day in the Life of a Mask Andrew Li, 11 A used face mask lay in the biohazard bin, where it had been placed once the doctor had finished his workday. He remembered the days of when he had just been created and was waiting to be shipped away. He was loaded into a box with other masks, then loaded into another box, then those boxes were loaded into a large steel shipping container. The containers were put on trucks. The trucks drove to the port, and the containers were loaded onto a large cargo ship. The masks sailed for about a week and arrived in Seattle. They were unloaded from the ship and taken from the container and loaded onto trucks. They then were driven for a few days and arrived in New York City. They were unloaded from the truck and stocked into a Walmart. A few days after the masks’ arrival, before the pandemic, in the small pharmacy section of the Walmart, the surgical masks were being bullied. “You’re worthless!” sneered a bottle of Tylenol. “And useless!” agreed a box of Band-aids. They were stuck on the bottom shelf, while the bullies were on the top. The masks were at the bottom of the pharmaceutical hierarchy, and they were bullied by nearly everyone: the painkillers, bandages, vitamins, shampoo, and even the adult diapers. Most customers walked past, and barely anyone even looked at them. Those who did were mostly kids who were playing while their parents picked up a prescription. The masks endured weeks of this teasing and neglect until finally, they were bought. They sat in a garage cabinet for a few months. They were then loaded into a bag along with other masks and boxes of rubber gloves, and driven to the hospital. They were bookended on one side by boxes of pizza, and on the other by jugs of water. The trunk also smelled of wet dogs and mold. The pizzas kept singing the word “pizza” to the tune of Nessun Dorma, and the jugs kept rolling around the trunk, slamming into everyone. “Will you please stop rolling around?” the masks pleaded. “Gwe gwant gwap gwolling garound! Gwe gware gwottles, gou gnow!” (“We can’t stop rolling around! We are bottles, you know!”) the jugs responded, in a very bubbly way. Once the masks arrived at the hospital after what seemed like hours, they were dumped into a box marked “Donations.” They sat there, quite uncomfortably, for the night, then they were unceremoniously yanked out of the box at an ungodly hour, and plopped onto a table by the receptionist, then distributed to the doctors. The masks had been taken by a Dr. Smith. Dr. Smith took them back to his office and put one of the masks on. He was walking down the hall when a fellow doctor stopped him. “Hey, John, your mask isn’t tucked down right. Remember, these are dangerous times,” the doctor said. Dr. Smith fixed his mask and thanked his colleague. He then went to check on his patients. He first stopped to check on some elderly flu patients. There were flu viruses in the air, but they were blocked by the mask. Suddenly, the hospital PA system called him to the ICU ward, where the coronavirus patients were being treated. “Dr. Smith, please report to ICU ward 3. One of your patients is vomiting,” the voice said. He rushed down the hall and down a flight of stairs. The room was full of patients. Most were coughing and were running a fever, as shown on their status monitors next to the beds. One or two had bottled oxygen, and in the far corner, away from everyone else, were a few patients with ventilators. Dr. Smith leaned in to administer some anti-nausea medicine to the patient, whose name was Bill, as shown by the ID tag on his wrist. Bill coughed, and some virus particles floated onto the doctor’s mask. The mask went into action as the viruses flowed in. Some of the larger particles had too much inertia and crashed into the filter’s fibers. The smaller ones spun out of control, being buffeted by the air molecules, and they too crashed into the mask. Only a few middle-sized viruses remained. Luckily, just at that second, Dr. Smith sneezed into his mask. The viruses were repelled back out, and the doctor was not infected. The patient’s stomach had also calmed down, possibly because it had nothing left to regurgitate. The doctor finished checking on some other patients, completed some paperwork, and finally took the mask off. He then washed his hands and face and took his temperature before finally leaving. The mask lay there in the biohazard bin and was nostalgic for his old pharmacy days. He missed being able to sit around and be carefree, without the threat of a virus.
Short Stories
Pigeon City by Charis Choy, 11
Charis Choy, 11 Cary, NC Pigeon City Charis Choy, 11 Amber rays of sunlight flooded through the city, casting long shadows behind the tall buildings. A glint of sun caught on dark grey feathers as the bird glided through the darkening sky, skimming the tops of the buildings. It landed on the roof of the tallest one. Beautiful evening, it thought to itself. And one day… this entire city will be OURS! It cackled evilly to itself for a few moments before another bird popped its head into view. “There you are, Blu. Where were you?” Blu glared at her friend. “Stu! You interrupted my evil cackling!” Stu rolled his eyes. “So that’s your new hobby, eh?” “Call it a hobby,” Blu sniffed, ruffling her feathers. “I call it practice.” “Practice,” Stu repeated dubiously. “Well, what are you practicing for? Face it, pigeons will never be as good at singing as other birds.” “I wasn’t trying to sing,” Blu squawked indignantly. “I was practicing for when pigeons will rule the city. Maybe I’ll even be invited to do the speech!” Stu blinked and cocked his head to the side. “What makes you think pigeons will ever rule the city?” “Don’t be daft!” Blu unfurled her wings, gesturing to the glorious city before them. “Look!” She bobbed her head proudly, waiting for Stu to begin nodding his head and saying, “Ohhh, I get it!” Instead, her friend blinked his black beady eyes some more and burbled, “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.” “It’s not what you see!” Blu exclaimed. “It’s what you don’t see! Look! There are so few humans out there right now. They already understand that they won’t be controlling the city for much longer.” Stu twisted his head around and began to preen his feathers. “Why would they ever understand that if it’s not true?” “But it is true!” cried Blu, spreading her wings again. “Remember all those hints that we always leave behind for them?” “Hints?” Stu paused to think about it. “Do you mean when Via left some of her droppings on the hood of that Lamborghini?” “You should’ve seen that human’s face when he saw them!” Blu smirked. “It looked likea tomato. And that time when Kek upchucked on that woman’s shoes was beautiful.” Stu nodded thoughtfully. “How about when Tud ate some of the kid’s ice cream at the park? That was quite interesting to watch.” “Now you’re getting it!” Blu hopped around with excitement. “You see, the city never truly belonged to humans—it belongs to us! And one day we’ll take it over, just you wait!” “Dream on, kid,” Stu replied. “I’m going to find a place to roost.”
The Chase, a story by Amelia Weilu Ding, 11
Amelia Weilu Ding, 11Shanghai, China The Chase Amelia Weilu Ding, 11 Another day, another close escape. For the past five months I’ve been tracked, followed, and nearly killed on more than a couple instances. Who is after me and why, you ask? This guy is the most relentless killer I have ever encountered: first name Alco last name Hol. And the thing about him is… he’s everywhere! He has what seems like more than a million brothers and sisters who are always after me. This is why I am all sweaty when I get back home. What I see every day when I go out are beds, people with all white clothes on or people with scrubs, masks, and gloves!!! They sure look scary; will they harm me? Yes, definitely. “Knock knock” Somebody’s at the door. AHHHHHHHHH! It’s Alco!!!! He reeks of a harsh astringent smell, a smell that all the viruses in my family fear. If he touches or scrubs me, it’s game over. Another day, another chase. I am really tired; I have been running at least 20 hours every day for the past five months! Who am I after? She’s a murderer, my sister told me her name is Cora Na Virus. Such a weird name, right? It’s too hard to just chase her by myself, she really is a fast one. She travels past at least 1,000 people every day. I am those people’s hero, so I must do my job. One Hol isn’t enough, then ten! I call on five sisters and four brothers to come with me for the chase. I am now outside Cora’s door, time for action! They had both come as far as they could go. Each too exhausted to chase or flee the other. They both mutually agreed it was time. And so, the standoff began. “It’s been a long time coming Alco!”, Cora shouted. You’ve already killed 386,091 members of my family! How much more do you want?! Can’t we just talk it out?” Alco felt bad for doing this, but he remembered again, “She is a murderer…I need to do my job.” He suddenly reached for Cora. Alco managed to grab her by the arm and swung her around. Cora couldn’t help but yelp at his touch. She felt like her entire body was being lit on fire, but she knew she couldn’t give up. She swiftly kicked Alco’s hands and face. Shocked at how strong Cora was, Alco immediately backed away. He had underestimated her. She wasn’t anything like the other viruses he remembered encountering. She was stronger and faster. Had she evolved? He was furious when the realization crashed down on him like a meteor. “You can go this time Cora Na Virus, but watch out! Next time, my cousins Sanitizer and Vaccine will come and back me up! You are not going to have a good ending!” As he stomped out of Cora’s house with his siblings. Cora breathed in, and sighed, “It’s not ending yet, it’s just a new start…”
