On Monday, she got the call that they were being shut down.
The school was closing.
Too many students and teachers had become sick.
I knew why.
I entered through breath.
No warning. No pain. No sign.
I arrived.
Who kept studying, working, moving.
Nothing happened.
Silence invaded.
Within no one noticed.
Through the nose to the respiratory tract.
Making my way.
Found my prey.
A healthy cell.
Attached greedily clinging.
Copying myself.
Became hundreds and thousands.
More and more cells have been infected.
Spreading in the body.
Repeat over and over again.
Coughing started.
The Throat became sore.
The temperature rose.
The body felt weak and heavy.
You feel me.
Your body feels me.
Something happened.
Body protection comes.
Immune system and white blood cells.
That was the bad news for me.
They will attack me.
For several days, I made the body suffer.
The temperature rose and fell, like a roller coaster up and down.
The throat burned with every swallow, like sandpaper rubbing against raw skin.
The coughing grew stronger, violent, felt like lungs were being coughed out.
Every movement took more energy.
Even simple actions became exhausting.
Walking across the room.
Standing up.
Climbing a few stairs.
All of them became harder.
Excellent.
The body was using more and more energy just to keep going-and to feed me.
And I was still there.
I continued spreading through the respiratory tract.
I thought no one could stop me.
I copied myself whenever I had the chance.
At first, the body revolted and could not stop me.
I thought I had more time.
She thought it was only a small illness.
So she continued going to school.
She sat in the teacher’s office.
She talked with the other teachers.
She coughed.
And every cough gave me another chance to spread out.
Out to another body.
Later, she stood in front of a large grade-level meeting.
Students.
Teachers.
A crowded room.
Perfect.
I was not alone anymore.
My kind traveled through the air.
Into another nose.
Another throat.
Another body.
One person became sick.
Then another.
Then another.
Soon, many students and teachers were coughing, feeling tired, and staying home.
That was why the call came on Monday.
That was why the school shut down.
She carried me into the school.
But she still did not know what I was.
She stayed home alone.
Resting.
Drinking water.
Waiting for the illness to disappear.
But I did not disappear.
I kept spreading.
Then something changed slowly.
White blood cells moved toward the infected cells.
That was bad news for me.
At first, I was not afraid.
There were still billions of copies of me inside the body.
But day after day, the revolt became stronger.
Then her breathing changed.
Each breath became shorter.
Heavier.
Harder.
The illness did not ease up as her imagined time passed.
She stopped acting and could no longer pretend that nothing happened.
Finally, she went to the hospital.
The doctors checked her temperature.
They checked the oxygen level in her blood.
Then came the test result.
COVID-19.
They called me that.
The name meant nothing to me.
But the treatment did.
Her oxygen level had fallen too low.
She needed help breathing.
When her lungs could no longer provide enough oxygen on their own, a ventilator helped her breathe.
Still, I fought.
I tried to copy myself.
I tried to spread.
I tried to catch it.
But my territory was becoming smaller.
Billions became millions.
Millions became thousands.
Fever cells remained infected.
The fewer slowly fell.
The inflammation began to decrease.
Breathing became easier.
After about two weeks, I was almost gone.
Almost.
The school eventually reopened.
She returned to teaching because she needed to work.
The hallways were filled with sound and noise again.
But everyone was wearing a mask.
The smell of disinfectant filled the school all day long.
But the body I felt behind was not the same.
Some morning.
The smell of the coffee made her want to vomit.
The food tasted strange.
Throughout her lecture, she would have to lean on the podium to catch her breath and pause.
At the end of the day, she felt chest pain and had no strength.
Sometimes even simple activities make breathing uncomfortable.
She returned to the hospital for checkups again and again.
Weeks passed.
Months passed.
Nearly a year later, the marks of my invasion were still there.
The human body had defeated me.
The school had been shut down and then opened again.
It will be shut down soon.
I was not defeated.
I was gone from this body.
But there were hundreds and thousands of me in other bodies..
Humans can prevent one type of me.
But I am changed time by time.
We changed.
We returned.
We counterattacked.
On Monday, I helped to shut down the school.
Also shut down some humans.
This war was over.
Another will start after I evolve.