Human Error (1)

(1)

I lay awake in my king-sized bed, examining the patterns on the roof above me. I wait for my alarm to go off at 7 AM. I lay in bed under my duvet, waiting the 20 minutes until 7 AM.

7 AM comes along and my alarm goes off. With a grunt, I get out of bed and walk to the other side of my room to turn it off. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walk past it. My dirty blonde coloured hair, somewhat presentable to be left as it is. I rub my hair and make it presentable. I turn away, not looking at my green eyes. Not wanting to see how bright they are. They reminded me of my father.

His green-blue eyes, always holding slight sympathy for my mother. My father had a terrible immune system, often he would be sick. Sometimes with the common cold or flu. He could get over that in a month or so, but my mother had to take care of him while I was at school. My father had brown hair and my mother blonde. My dad had blue eyes, later turning to a blue-brown.

I turn to face the mirror once more and get quite close to it. I stare into it, staring at my irises. Wanting to know why I had his eyes, not hers. I am cleanly shaven. A handsome man with a handsome jawline. The frame of my body is muscular and tall; About 5"9. I live alone in my house with my dog. A two-story house, two bedrooms, both with an en suite, a kitchen of average size and 2 bathrooms that are bigger than average, lounge, dining room and a garage for 3 cars. I have a Lamborghini Aventador J and a Koenigsegg Agera RS both in flip black-red. Both wheels blacked out.

I get dressed into my suit and tie for work as a biologist at 'B-Tech International'. I don't know what we do exactly, but we create cures or develop them. We work with a deadly disease such as Ebola, cancer and so on. We just get told who has to commit surgery or told we are stopping diseases. I don't believe it entirely. "You live and you learn".That's what my father always told me.

Later at work I sign in and let the receptionist know I'm here. She looks at me worryingly. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says quietly. She is usually more energetic and open to answering questions about her feelings if something's wrong. "I don't think it's a good day to be in work," she says.

"Why?"

"I overheard the head of biology speaking about a super deadly virus, turning people super violent," she says as worry fills her voice," I just care about you and don't want you to get hurt in the lab".

"I'll be careful. What were the symptoms of the weapon?"

"Anger, clumsiness, violence, loss of memory and intelligence and if you get bitten by an infected or scratched you would suffer the same effects, starting off with falling over things, then sometimes running after people with immense speed and stamina. Once bitten or scratched the symptoms start slowly and you begin to reverse what you've learnt. Instead of walking you stumble or crawl. Instead of talking to growl. Your eyes change colour and then when they do, you can't reverse the effects," she replies, still worried.

"Thank you, I'll see if I can 'accidentally' modify it to make it less dangerous," I say. I start to walk off.

"Wait,"she says ," people go into seizures before turning. Coughing, sneezing and vomiting violently are also symptoms. Sometime blood, or normal".

I head off to the lab and dress into my lab coat with my sickness mask and hair net. I get set up at my working station and unpack what I need for today.

The head of science walks in,"get Ebola from bio hazard chamber over there," he says pointing to the right," then take some blood, cancer and diabetes".

"What are we making today, sir?" Michael asks.

"A virus to act as a cure for the world".

That comment sent shivers down my spine. What 'cure' were we going to be making? Many questions flow through my head. I feel light headed, like I could collapse at any moment. From what Jayden, the receptionist, had told me, to now. My mind couldn't cope with it. "May I please be excused for a moment, sit?" I ask.

"Come back in when you're ready," replies the head of science.

I walk out, not realising that a glass door was in front of me, I walk straight into it and it breaks. The head of science looks at me, he storms over and starts shouting at me for my stupidity. Most of it was inaudible. I look into his eyes and he stops. He must have seen that I wasn't feeling right. He apologises for not knowing I wasn't feeling right. I get up and begin to walk out. "Go home, Mondure. It will be better for you and I. Always the best," I hear him say.

I make it to reception. Jayden looks at me,"what happened to you? You're cut and bloody, you don't even have your suit on. You look like a mess," she says reaching for the first aid kit.

I sit down and start talking ,"I know, my vision was blurry and I felt light headed. I asked the head if I could go out the room for a few minutes and looked through the glass door. I walked into it and it smashed. The head started yelling at me about my stupidity. I locked eyes with him and he stopped. He then apologised and wished me well".

"Well, I hope you get well soon," she says, "let me clean you up".

She begins to clean me up. My face bloody and my hands scratched. My right knee was also cut open. I winced a couple of times when she had to pull out glass or put some anti-septic on my wounds. After all, she meant no harm.

"Alright, you should be ready to go. Take care of yourself for me," Jayden finishes.

"Thanks again for what you did for me. Good luck with that virus thing that's being made," I say as I walk off," it wouldn't be best if I were to drive would it?"

"No, let me drive you," she offers," you'll have to show me the way".

"Thank you"

Moments later we are in her Ford GT. A blue body with two straight white stripes down the middle. The drive home was more or less quiet. Some conversations about what happened and what will happen. And some about if the virus actually breaks out.

We near my home. Just a couple of minutes away from it. I begin to get my things ready to get out. I thank her," thank you, this was a very nice random act of kindness. I'll see you tomorrow". She pulls up outside of our house and we say our goodbyes an I exit the car. I wave goodbye and she drives away.

Entering my home felt weird. Like I did something wrong. Like I had walked in in something I should have. I turned the corner and see nothing. I go to my gun safe and get my 9mm out of it. I drop my bag on the floor and begin to walk around, searching for people in my home. I notice some of my belongings are gone.

Searching my house I find someone, hiding. I point my gun at him and he whimpers and scurries away from me into a wall. I put my gun down to my side," what are doing here?"

"I-I am s-s-sorry, I-I-I I don't mean to. I was thrown through a window a-and hurt m-my ankle. I can't walk v-very well," he answers.

"Okay," I say reassuringly," and first: I won't hurt you. Second: by who?"

"The gang," he says.

"C'mon, let's get you home".

"Thank y-you".

The drive home with this, not man, but a teenage boy, was silent. It was mostly boring. He was unresponsive to a Lamborghini. Let alone sitting in one. We reached where he said his house was and he got out," t-thank you for n-not shooting m-me. B-bye," he says.

I wave goodbye and drive off back home.