Me drew open the curtains by 6 cm, just enough for mine left eye to see through the window. Liquid precipitation became heavy enough to pour onto the Earth under gravity. Me enlarge mine darting eye with maximum force and pressure till it gradually became bloodshot. Mine eye was looking out for something. Mine breath quickened and mine brow frowned.

         Me counted, “Five Mississippi, four Mississippi, three Mississippi, two Mississippi, and… one.”

         An eardrums-piercing shriek echoed from a far distance, breaking the silence. Me remained silent though mine body quivered frantically. A human, identified as a teen girl, dragged her body with her bony arms across a colorful-spongy and waterlogged floor of a playground. Mine eye squinted out of disgust and utter horror at the indescribably deformed face of the girl. More screams, shrieks of fear, panic, and misery. More grotesque and agonized dragging-bodies slowly emerged from the shadows. The girl’s tears trickled down her rotten face, sobbing and weeping at the top of her lungs, begging for mercy at the sky. Me shut the curtains immediately as mine eye met with the monster’s. Me lost balance out of shock and crunched mine body like a turtle. Blocking mine ears with headphones, me tried to regain mine breath with consoling music. Me crumbled in the corner of the room, slumped and shaking with sobs.

         As the music reached its climax, a sudden knock on the door scared the life out of I. Was it The Inspectors? Nah, it was just Grandpa W. He knelt down beside I and mouthed something. Pressing mine lips together, exasperation boiled in I as me heard nothing but faint sounds coming out from Grandpa W.

         Me exploded and barked, “LEAVE ME ALONE. GET OUT OF ROOM. ME AIN’T GOT TIME FOR THIS EMOTIONAL THERAPY.”

         Grandpa W. calmly said in his soothing voice, “I’m sorry, Noah. But you can’t shut me away all the time. I’m all you’ve got left, you’re stuck with me, kiddo.”

         “Don’t call I a kiddo, old man. Me never was one, ever since the day mom and         dad left.”

         Grandpa W. sighed and headed towards the door.

         “They did not leave you on their own will, Noah. They had no choice. They were forced. They were needed.”

         Me snapped, “You lucky that your kind of vulnerable people are not the major target of the virus. Your kind is useless to this world. You belong in a filthy sewage alley. More useless than a tattered plastic bag rolling across a car-road.”

         Me didn’t regret what me had said. He deserved it. But once me was all alone again, mine eyes flooded with salty droplets.  

*      *      *

         H.F.H. (Health for Humanity) named the virus: Juvenile Palsy-76. Scientists discovered 4 in 5 infected patients are teens aged 13 to 19. The virus is targeting mine kind. Mom and dad left me 261 days ago. Mom was needed in the army as a military officer to counterattack the oppressing invasion from outside countries who underestimated the virus. Dad was a doctor so H.F.H. needed him in the Grand Hospital. The first and the last time we three had been together was mine 9th birthday. A family photo taken 7 years ago is the only thing that gives I glitches of memories of mom and dad. Grandpa W. was a retired chemist-researcher in S.R.W. (Science Rules the World). And, mine trusty old Pap. He fascinated and haunted I with the wonders of science. He explained to me 65 days ago; “I’ve never seen anything like this. The virus contaminates human-biology and DNA to control the human physiology itself—which is not possible in any means of science and nature,” he leaned closer to his Titanic Computer screen, “and it causes involuntary movements, abnormal reflexes and posture, problems with swallowing, excessive drooling, difficulty in speaking, eye muscle imbalance, deafness, blindness, mental disorders, and… from my recent discovery, muscle paralysis.”

         H.F.H. reported that only 1% of the suspected people are 40% infected, while others are 100%. Before moving into this underground bunker, Grandpa W. diagnosed I himself due to mine detectable-grammar-mashed-up-speaking-inability. Me recall Grandpa W. telling I; “You’re a rare case, Noah. Your DNA is only 35% infected.” Grandpa W.’s staggering words haunt I till this day.

         For some reason, Grandpa W. decided to live underground and protect I from the outside world, especially The Inspectors. Ah, me remember these people. They, in their long, dark violet, virus-proof gowns, intruded our secret bunker and rummaged through Grandpa W.’s computers, documents, Time Machine generator and incubators, clothes, and mine Oreo packets. Grandpa W. says The Inspectors take infected teens hostage and lock ‘em up in laboratory cages. They torture them to death until they successfully extracted every pint of biological specimen from a teen’s body… Having nightmares about these evil moving-violet eggplants are the worst. Hate to confess this, but Grandpa W. was always there for I when me woke up from bad dreams.

         Unhappy news was ubiquitous online, making I feel more raptured in fear and anxiety. But one thing truly torments mine guts real deep—boredom. However, me kept mineself entertained with Grandpa W.’s Time Travelling experiment. Yesterday, me peeped through Grandpa W.’s bedroom door and witnessed him coming back from Egypt, year 2010. Two days ago, Sweden, year 2090. Me was unsure what he’s really up to, but his face was full of distress every time he returned home… Gotta say, this morning, me was a jerk. A total self-centered, ill-mannered jerk. Me know that, but me have no control over mine brain and body. Feels like Me am being controlled…

         Hands in pockets, me creeped downstairs to check on Grandpa W.’s typical Time Travelling procedure. But this time, he wasn’t in the incubator. The room was blazed with blue-ray and laser lights from thousands of computer screens, blinding mine eye. Narrowing mine eye, The Inner I echoed: Jesus the light…What’s he doin’? Yes, me hear him tapping-tackling his fingers on keyboards, what are those igniting sparkles spluttering every once he bangs the hammer against something metallic? What is the old man up to… an upgraded Time machine or maybe a—

         “Don’t just hide behind the shadows like a coward, Noah. Come on in,” Grandpa W. interrupted.

         Embarrassed, me quickly scurried into his room and stood beside his Titanic Working Desk.

         Grandpa W. asked, “My dear genius grandson, do you know what this is?”

         He held up his goggly goggles to see I better.

         “No idea, Pap. Perhaps another Time Machine of yours?”

         “Close…”

         Mine gaze was fixed upon a luminous and magnificent innovation which looks like an arcade game machine.

         Grandpa W. boomed, “Oh, quick catch Adams. This, my boy, is Mirage Reality Visualizer!!!”

         A close-lipped smile drew on Grandpa W.’s face.

         “Imagine, Noah. Imagine time travelling without actually travelling, but seeing through time.”

         Me titled mine head.

         “Now, now, let me explain. I designed it like an arcade game machine with vivid controllers and levers. And that on the top is a pair of VR binoculars. Noah, my invention allows us to time travel with our eyes! We can see through time. My, this is revolutionary! Go on, hop on the seat and try it out!”

         In a blink of an eye, me was chained to the chair and mine vision became pitch black, covered by the binoculars. Grandpa W. pressed some buttons then the machine bellowed, “Eldbroake, United States. Year 2.0.2.5.”

*      *      *

         “And without further ado, this year’s Nobel Prize medal goes to… Dr. Winston        Adams! Congratulations!!”

         Me saw hundreds of crowded faces, cheers, claps, and Yoo-hoos. A young, hair-gelled back, righteous-looking man in a white gown wearing a smart suit underneath, pranced his way up the stairs with glee to receive the award. Wait—Winston Adams? Winston as in, Grandpa W.? And Adams as in mine family name? Me never knew Grandpa W. was that of a genius… The moment me observed the young lad’s grin full of pride, me could never ever be this proud of mine old Pap. Me slid the binoculars up slightly to congratulate Pap, but it seemed he left the room.

         Once me put back on the binoculars, the screen blurred like mist and transformed into a totally another setting. Me checked the time: Chicago. Year 2.0.2.6. A group of scientists were discussing over something real serious with a figure who me recognized as the president. The atmosphere in the room looked so intense that me could sense the lungs-squeezing mood. Mine vision blurred once again and the Mirage Reality Visualizer took I to a laboratory where a scientist injected a red serum into a severely wounded soldier who me assumed was held captive. The soldier’s body vibrated as if he was electrocuted, showed horrendous and frantic involuntary movements with his arms and legs. His legs wobbled uncontrollably like overcooked noodles, then he instantly collapsed to the ground on his violet-bruised face. Other scientists applauded for the experiment’s success. The scientist who injected the serum even scorned at the soldier who dragged his body desperately to escape this position of a laughing-stock. No matter how hard he tried, his wonky legs were unresponsive. As me tried to shut mine eyes from seeing this blood-curdling scene any further, a shiny metallic name tag on the scientist’s gown caught mine left eye. It labelled: Dr. Winston Adams.

         “Hey, kiddo, how’s time travelling going? Or should I say, visualizing through         time?”

         I heard Grandpa W.’s voice. The machine replayed the gruesome and abhorrent scene over and over again, zooming in the soldier’s face and the name tag. Wait… me know this. Me have seen this before somewhere. Me could feel mine heart palpitating. Somewhere, somewhere, but where? Me recognize the symptoms of which the solider displayed after he got injected. Me’ve seen it before with mine left eye. Me saw the infected girl dragging her body— Me hid mine sudden tears of panic and horror under the binoculars as Grandpa W.’s steps approached closer. The Inner I roamed with questions again as me slid off the binoculars and glared at Grandpa W: Is it? Would it be? Could it be? Did he do it? Why use the beauty of science to corrupt our world? Me am thinking nonsense…but could it be him? Mine old Pap? Noticing that the Mirage Reality Visualizer had travelled beyond what he was supposed to show I, Grandpa W. became pale. Mine body paralyzed. An electric shock traveled through mine veins as the potentially-dangerous old figure sat closer to I. Mine eyes watered.

         “You. You were the one, you did it… Was that why you got the medal? You ain’t deserve it! No, you don’t deserve anything good… no, no… IT WAS YOU. BECAUSE OF YOU, MINE FRIENDS ARE DYING, OR DEAD. MINE   PARENTS LEFT I, NIGHTMARES HAUNT I, AND ME AM STUCK HERE WITH YOU. BECAUSE OF YOU, INNOCENT TEENS TORTURED. WHY? HOW, WHY? JUST SPEAK YOU OL—”

         Me was cut off as the potentially-dangerous old figure exclaimed, “NOAH ADAMS. CALM YOURSELF, SON. Take a deep breath. Come, look at me, kiddo.”

         Mine bloodshot eyes were fixed on him from the very beginning.

         “I’m so sorry you got to see that… But Noah, I’m no enemy or villain. I understand, it’s crazy and none of this makes sense to you. But you gotta listen to what I’m gon say, you understand young man?!”

*      *      *

         We shared a packet of Oreos in the kitchen. Shoulders slouched and trembling, me was speechless.

         “Noah Adams. I know you’re not gon listen to me, but listen.” Grandpa W. said, looking at I with his earnest eyes.

         “It was year 2024, when the Industrial Golden Age rose in civilizations and countries of The Void. They were so brutally and awfully corrupted, Noah. You cannot imagine. So arrogant yet powerful that they craved to devour the world. Enemies from The Void invaded my country with such advanced technology. One, I particularly recall: The Racing Hoverboard. Lord golly, that was fast. Enemies rode on these dashing skateboards and sliced innocent people’s heads as they swift-passed... It was more than a war crime. It was a massacre. I, as a scientist invented the idea of creating a virus that makes the enemy soldiers unable to walk or even use their legs ever again.”

         Grandpa W.’s fingers fidgeted and bit his lips. He looked up.

         “Here’s the interesting part, Noah. My old colleague Stella Ashely and I secretly stirred a special formula into the virus specimen that makes the virus target the corrupted hearts with conceited minds. We sent a spy to offer it as a gift to the enemy military officer with caution of this gift’s uncontainable power. Of course, he underestimated the power of the virus. The virus exploded in opaque-violet fumes and poisoned every single life on the military campsites. Except for adolescent— slaves.

         “After my country’s victory, Stella Ashely and I vowed to keep it secured under the government’s security. In 2030, I was betrayed by my colleague, my friend. She set the government central building on fire and broke in to steal the virus samples. I’ve never heard from her for the past 46 years. But now that this virus is set loose, I suspect she is the one controlling it.”

         Me stared at him with sorrow.

         “Oh, Pap…” mine voice drifted it off.

         “But the real question is, Noah, why is the virus targeting teenagers?”