Broken glass pierced through my arm as I squeezed through the shattered window. The air was polluted with screams of terror and pain, everyone rushing to try and get their self-proclaimed share of the cure.

My mother has been diseased now for a couple of hours. It was only a matter of when, if she didn’t get the cure. My brother had gone into shock with it all as he’s only young, after dad passed away last Tuesday. He was one of the unlucky ones and didn’t make it home in-time. That’s what we were told by John, my uncle, who was on his way to the airport with dad as he had been staying with us for a visit. He’s not very effective in critical situations, weighing in at 17 stone and he lives in a world of his own, worried sick for his kids back home. 


So, that’s why it had to be me to get the cure. I was running as fast as I could to get in and get out. I was surrounded by the sick, elderly, and grabbers as we had been labelled. So, not only would I have to get the cure but also avoid the force as well. The force is basically the police set in place by Greta Thunberg, the heroine herself.

We knew this because the rebellion had released valuable info. There had been a lot of conspiracies about who or what was leading “The Solution” but nobody knew for sure. Multiple times, we were on the verge of winning but the force had just become stronger and multiplied. That’s why I had to be sneaky and take back roads and go trough estates to get home.

The force had just become so meticulous and began raiding houses in dead zones; these were places that had become empty due to people being dead or running away. I had to get in through the back garden and run to my mam as fast as I could. My brother was still uncontrollably shaking with fear and hunger but my mam looked like a lifeless body. I had to raise her arm up and inject her with the syringe I stole from the hospital. 


I got my brother and my uncle carried my mam and we left as fast as we could with the bare essentials. Just as we were leaving, I saw a picture frame on the floor. It was from my 8th birthday when we went to the park so I could cycle my new shiny red bike. Just as we were leaving, we heard roars from our dead zone. Everyone in hiding had come out and the rebellion had started. 


Just as we were about to go down and join the rebellion, my uncle pulled out a gun branded with a force symbol which I had seen a handful of times on the force’s uniform. My uncle said if we didn’t co-operate, he’d shoot us now. Out of nowhere, my mam kicked the gun out of his hand. It ricocheted of the ground and shot him in the shoulder. Shot, my uncle dropped to his knees, dropping my ill mother and, in his dying words said “You’re dead weight, just like your father”. I took the gun and shot him in the head just to finish the job. I told my mam to hide in a bush with my brother and went back into the now war-one to fight. 



It’s been five years no and the virus has been cleared. Greta was taken down by the U.N. When she failed to capture Ireland and we had been compensated by the E.U for new houses, better hospitals, and renovated schools. 


There has still been no situation for climate-change but Greta was just dead-weight, adding to the problem.