Creative Writing by Eve McAuley
INJECTIONS
Injections. The word was on every person’s mind as they trudged down the empty silent corridor, the usual chatter had been replaced by a tense silence as each person dreaded what was about to happen.
Almost every person was to get the injection but that didn’t stop them from feeling absolutely terrified as they took their seats. I made sure to sit at the back as far away as possible from the nurse who was standing at the front with a long needle in one hand and a clipboard in the other. One by one the children rose from their seats and took unsteady steps towards the front of the classroom where the nurse would jab the long needle into our skin. Occasionally there would be a small whimper and one or two people even screamed but eventually the room was empty. Now it was my turn.
The nurse looked up and motioned for me to come up to the front. I looked around helplessly, but I was the only one left. Step by step, I slowly made my way to the front then, trembling, I held out my arm. The nurse picked up her long shiny needle – that looked even bigger up close – then held it poised above my arm. In one single motion she pushed it through my skin and into my arm. I stared horrified at the needle sticking out of my flesh, then slowly, as if she was enjoying my pain, she pulled the needle out, wiping at the small dot of blood that had begun to trickle out my arm.
Shaking I stood up from my seat and made my way out of the classroom too terrified to look back.
Two weeks later.
The British government are in a panic. They had been talking for over three hours and gotten nowhere.
At around four o’clock that afternoon a letter had been delivered to 10 Downing Street, it had immediately sent everybody into a panic. Almost instantly, the Prime Minister was sent for. He sat down unaware of the panic that this letter was causing and carefully slid the letter out of its envelope; he couldn’t believe what he saw.
Dear Prime Minister,
It is with regret that we must inform you that we are about to bring terror to your country.
We are working at the wishes of an overseas client who wishes to make certain adjustments to the current balance of world power. He has made three demands:
- The British must withdraw all their troops and secret service personnel from every country around the world.
- The sum of one billion dollars must be paid to the World Bank; this money will be used to rebuild poor countries and countries damaged by recent wars.
- The British Prime Minister must resign immediately.
We will wait until two o’clock tomorrow. During this time we expect to hear that you have agreed to our terms. If you fail to do so we will inflict a terrible punishment on the people of Britain.
We must inform you, Prime Minister, that we have developed a new secret weapon that is now primed and operational. If you chose to not respond to all of our demands in the allotted time then – at exactly two o’clock tomorrow afternoon – many thousands of British schoolchildren all across Britain will die. Let me assure you, most sincerely, that this cannot be avoided. The technology is in place; the targets have been selected. This is not a hollow threat.
These demands cannot be negotiated. The countdown has already begun.
There was no further discussion. It sounded like an empty-threat as there could be no such weapon – at least that they could think of – that was already in place that could kill so many people at exactly the same time. That was the conclusion; there was no other possibility, so the letter was cast aside.
Few believed in the letter but those who did could not help but cast nervous glances towards that envelope, and as the countdown drew to a close they grew more and more anxious. But there was nothing they could do.
Two o’clock the next day
At exactly two o’clock the next day, all across Britain children slumped forward onto their desks as the small capsules of poison that had been injected into their bloodstream opened and released small monticules of Cyanide. The Cyanide instantly started a process known as “internal asphyxia” – which prevented the red blood cells from absorbing oxygen. They all died a painful death. The source of the killing: Injections.
