“How are our daughters? Are they OK?” They all asked at the same time, looking worriedly as their daughters’ beds were pushed and ushered towards the ICU ward.
“They are fine. Their conditions are now stable,” the doctor replied as he addresses each parent one by one, “Mr. And Mrs. Vagabond, your daughter has suffered a blunt-forced trauma—probably because of the stairs she fell from—and a mild concussion to the head, a fractured left elbow and a dislocated shoulder and a possible slipped disc due to her fall. Mrs. Graham, your daughter has sustained self-induced cut wounds through the kitchen knife, and it wasn’t easy for us to pry it as she held it in a death grip even though we had administered sedatives into her bloodstream.
“Mr. Thomas, your daughter has suffered a severe break on most of her ribs, and it’ll be rather a while for her to fully heal, and she may have sprained her ankle and twisted her arm from her fall from the bus. I guess the worst injuries sustained would be your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Olson, for she had a hairline-cracked skull, a minor broken back—possible rehab is needed for her to walk—both her arms broken and her femur and ankle bone shattered. Her face also sustained multiple stab injuries due to the broken windshield and there is a very high chance that she needs to undergo facial reconstructive surgery in the future.
“We gave them an induced coma to make them sleep, so I’ll expect that they’ll soon come round in a week or two. They need all the slumber they can get,” he ended with a weary smile, then sighed and asked, “What happened to them? I mean, how did they turn out this way?”
“I wasn’t so sure,” Mrs. Olson replied. She was lucky to suffer only a few minor bruises and a deep cut on her forehead. “She suddenly went berserkers. I told her to keep her mind off school for a while because she looked so stressed out. When she asked me if we were eating out, I said yes, but she didn’t seem to hear me. She kept repeating her question and said I was scaring her. Then she just stood up and turned the steering wheel. When I told her to stop, she looked at me as if she saw a ghost.”
“So was our daughter,” Mr. Vagabond exclaimed, joining in the conversation, “We heard her suddenly screaming in her room when we got back home from work. When we were about to investigate, she suddenly shot out of her room and looked around like she had never seen the house before. Then she saw us and widened her eyes, like we were monsters or some sort.”
“She suddenly just blasted out of the house and screamed at every neighbor she saw. When we caught up with her, she was at the balcony looking really bewildered, like she had saw something that scared the daylights out of her when in truth, there were only curious passers-by looking up to see what the hubbub was about. She screamed and struggled when we tried to come near her and reach out for her, then she slipped and fell down the stairs. We were so worried when her head started bleeding…She kept saying the words ‘Let your dooms begin’…” Mrs. Vagabond burst into tears. Her husband comforted her.
“My daughter said the same thing too!” Mr. Thomas’s sudden voice made everyone jump. “It was raining this evening and I knew that it would be dangerous for her to go home alone. So I decided to fetch her, because it was supposed to be my wife’s turn to look after her, but she is still in Colorado performing a delicate surgery. When I got stuck in a traffic jam, a bus conductor suddenly approached my car and asked me if I knew my dear lil’ Jackie, and told me she was screaming wild in the middle of the road and that he knew me by my license plate number written in her address book. She continued screaming when I held her and said the same words your daughter said over and over again.”
“You’re not the only ones with daughters to worry,” Mrs. Graham lamented, near to tears but held them back, “my daughter was even worse. I rushed home briefly to drop her her KFC meal I bought for her, because I forgot to fix dinner and leave her usual dinner money. When I got home, I saw her sprawled on the floor waving a table knife in the air, as if she was trying to slash at something. Her whole body was smeared red and she was lying in her own pool of blood. The kitchen table was a mess too; a smashed plate of chicken with the chicken head on the floor and the pot began to smell of burnt metal and noodles because the water she was boiling were all evaporated. Even when I rang for the ambulance, she didn’t stop slashing. I don’t know why…”
“Neither do we,” replied the other three girls’ parents.
“Have you ever heard of the ‘Doom’ virus?” said the doctor after being silent for so long.
“Yes, I think so,” Mr. Thomas replied, “There has been a string of forwarded mail warning us about it. They often targeted school computers and always appear during black-outs on the computer screen and send a weird message reading ‘Let your dooms begin’…”
He suddenly stopped, looking at the doctor. The doctor nodded and said, “Yes, I believe that virus is the cause of it.”
“But how? How did they…?” Mr. Vagabond was so fumed, he couldn’t continue.
“When I checked your daughters, I found out that their brainwaves were abnormal and when I scanned their brains, I noticed some particles of radioactive rays circulating within them. I believe that besides destroying a computer, the ‘Doom’ virus also gives out radioactive beams through the screen which messes up the neurological patterns of the brain and triggered their brains to hallucinate. There is a high chance that your daughters were somehow exposed to it.”
“Then… then will my Becka be OK?” Mr. Olson voiced out anxiously.
“When they come round from their induced coma, they will still have the tendency to hallucinate, because although in small quantities, this radioactive virus seemed to be rather potent and wouldn’t just go away at such short notice. I’m afraid that we have no choice but to keep them isolated and committed into an institution temporarily and put them under solitary confinement so as not to hurt themselves and others,” the doctor replied gravely at first, then with an assured tone, he continued, “But don’t worry. I’ll get the paramedics specializing in radioactive engineering from Ukraine by then. I’m sure they will be most interested and willing to come after learning my story about your girls. Don’t fret. Your girls will be in good hands. We’ll fix them up in no time.”
The girls’ parents were restful then, after knowing their daughters are in good hands. Silently, they pray for their girls’ safety and wished that the culprits who caused their misery to be put to justice.
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