Comatose

I’m not sure what went wrong, but when it did, shit hit the fan faster than a Stephen King novel on speed.

When the virus had wiped out one-quarter of the world’s population, desperation and chaos were running havoc. There were talks of a vaccine. Studies had been conducted, research done, testing and probing executed, and there were imminent signs for hope.

Six months after the first cases were reported, the vaccine was ready to be distributed worldwide. They started with those who were most affected: children and young adults. They then administered it to the rest of the population, except to those who were immune: the elderly. For some reason, anyone over sixty-five had not gotten sick. Not even a whiff of the sickness. Nothing. Nada. Niente. It was a puzzle scientists all over the world were dying to solve. What had made the usually most vulnerable to disease immune to such a deadly virus? No one knew. No one ever figured it out either.

A month after vaccines started rolling out, the world watched with awe and wonder as things were slowly starting to return to normal. Two months later, half of the worldwide population had been vaccinated. I have to admit, governments, health organizations, and volunteers all over the world worked tirelessly and with such devotion that it didn’t take long to get properly organized. Excuses ran thin for those who were adamant about getting a needle into their bodies. But there were those who resisted. I, for one, was one of those people.

At first, others respected the decision of those who didn’t want to get the shot that would most certainly save their lives. Those who had gotten the vaccine were now protected against the virus, but they could still be silent carriers, meaning they could still spread the virus to those who were unprotected against it. Then, as more people got vaccinated, misinformation on both sides started to spread like wildfire. There were the anti-vaxers, those who wouldn’t get a vaccine no matter what it was. Those who thought it was all in God’s hands. Then there were those who were anti-science and just refused to even believe that the virus was real, even with all the deaths and the cautions and… why the hell would anyone even make that shit up? Then, of course, were the ones like, well, me. I’m not proud of it, well, perhaps I am now, considering how things turned out. The truth is, I was scared. Even though I admired the speed and efficacy with which they had come out with a solution that had saved so many, I was a little skittish about putting something in my body that couldn’t have possibly been tested thoroughly for all possible scenarios. Also, a few years back medication had put my life in danger, so I was a little nervous about side effects. I admit I was a bit ignorant to the whole thing too, and I was about to get vaccinated when things started to go haywire.

I’ll admit, I also felt a bit of pressure, those of us who hadn’t gotten the vaccine were fewer by the day, and more silent about our choices, as we were being criticized more openly with every day that passed. First by friends and relatives who had taken that step, then by strangers on threads on social media, especially Twitter and Facebook, and, well, then… things got a bit out of control. The government couldn’t technically force anyone to get a vaccine, but they could make it very difficult for those who didn’t live a normal life. They started passing laws that prohibited those of us who weren’t inoculated to travel, attend events, or even go shopping at normal hours. Those of us who had chosen the less popular route had limited choices, limited freedoms, and, well, our lives were a bit more restrictive (A LOT!). Soon it was impossible to hide; so many created false documentation of their vaccination history (anyone who had gotten the shot was given a vaccine passport). We were marked by family, friends, or anyone who figured out we weren’t vaccinated. The pressure was real, which was one of the reasons I decided to finally go through with the vaccine. I wasn’t ready to continue being a pariah. I wanted my life to be normal again. Let someone else carry that torch. I had never been one to get out of my comfort zone. I wasn’t about to start now.

It was a week before I had booked my appointment to get the required protection and, with it, my rights to live a normal life, when the first catatonic case was recorded. There were ten the day after, one hundred the day after that, and by the end of that week, over ten million vaccinated individuals had gone catatonic. At first, they hadn’t made the connection. ‘One thing had nothing to do with the next,’ they had said, but as they discovered more cases, the coincidences were too great to dismiss.

I remember where I was, that day when I heard millions of people who had gotten the vaccine were unconscious. I sat in my bedroom, crying, holding the heart-shaped locket my mom had given me. The only thing I had left of her. Wondering why it even mattered. I was alone. I had no family, my friends didn’t want to have anything to do with me because of my choice of not getting the protection they had gotten, and I sat there, not knowing what was going on. Damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. Although, apparently, not doing seemed like a better choice now.

Within a month of the first case of a comatose individual, most of those who had gotten vaccinated were unconscious. They seemed healthy otherwise, just… in a deep sleep. Maybe that world they had all gone to was brighter. Maybe it was happier. Maybe it was worth it. I was too scared to find out. I was alone, true, but I was alive and fully aware, so perhaps there was still hope. Of course, most of the scientific and health community were in that comatose state, so sciences were on hold for now. Wait a minute while the music finishes playing… oh, wait, looks like the fat lady has actually just sung her last song. Fuck!

What now? I was in the company of the crazies, the “anti-vaxers”, the “flat-earthers”, and, well, those like me. If I got lucky, I could find people like me, a tribe to belong to. Perhaps there was still a small community of scientists, doctors, nurses… highly intelligent individuals who could make sense of the best medicine books and, perhaps, we could all put our brains together and, figure something out?

Or not. Perhaps it was doomsday and this story ends like Cormac McCarthy’s The Road or Stephen King’s The Stand. Although, as far as I am aware, there’s no evil being pulling the strings on this one. Then again, what do I know?

One thing I can say, though, there are a lot of older people living their lives, rejoicing in how they can do whatever they want without their kids telling them how to live. Also, for some reason, I remember reading about the end of the world by so many writers, and how wildlife was barely existent anymore: no more animals, they always wrote.

Well, I am glad to report that that’s not the case in this story. Whatever happened, it only affected humanity and, well, the younger part of the human race at that. Nature is still flourishing. I have been traveling for a few weeks now and I can say with all certainty that things had never looked so beautiful in the Nature Realm. It’s as if Earth has renewed herself.

I don’t know what will happen, but I sure will be jotting down all that I experience in the hopes that we learn from this and, whoever finds my thoughts, ideas, and struggles long after I am gone might be able to use it for something. If there’s anyone left, that is.

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