Untouched

2. Still Sunday / I Still Hate Birthdays-day

Walking out of the woods, I'm greeted by the familiar hollow clunking sound of the odd-shaped wooden chimes me and my brother made. Hanging off the edge of my family's cabin porch, they look like lumps of shit dangling from a plate but my parents don't seem to care. That's parental pride for you, makes parents see the beauty in every piece of rubbish produced by their children.

I follow the dirt path which weaves through my settlement and pass cabins, cabins and more cabins. This used to be a summer camp. The only remaining evidence of this being a vacation spot are the faded initialled hearts scratched into the wooden beams. The etchings have deteriorated with time as have the memories of those once teenagers; if they're lucky enough to still be alive.

Nineteen years ago, the owners turned this camp into a settlement, a haven from the Virulence pandemic. The founders were already believers in rejecting technology and anything remotely progressive. They belonged to a niche group who called themselves 'Naturalists', and they dreamt of living off the land and leading a simple life.

Who would dream of living like this? It's boring.

For most of them, it was only a dream and a part-time hobby. They filled their weekends with camping out in the wild and foraging for food but for the rest of their week, these so-called Naturalists lived in houses located in towns and cities. They worked in offices for big cooperations, bought their food in large shops and moaned about the modern fast-paced, rapidly technologically-expanding world they lived in.

In reality, as much as they dreamt of going back to basics, deep down they knew they didn't want to live like this all the time. I don't want to live like this, and I don't even have anything to compare it to. I know nothing about the technology they had access to, but I bet it was more entertaining than a bunch of wooden cabins and growing vegetables in fields.

In the end, the decision to fully immerse themselves in this way of life was made for them by an uncontrollable pathogen called Virulence which rapidly spread across the globe killing every animal that became infected. These part-time Naturalists who didn't really want to give up their easy lives, suddenly decided Virulence was a sign that advancements in science and technology had gone too far. Humans had finally lost control. Our settlement was built on the basis of rejecting modern technology and advanced science. We live simply, and if that's not bad enough, they also decided to reduce physical contact to protect us against Virulence. As basic and stupid and annoying as the concept may seem, it worked. Out of multiple settlements set up across the world promising to keep you safe from death, we survived, unlike the majority.

The Techies also survived with all their technology, but that was probably due to luck.

The path curves and on one side I pass fields, fields and more fields. I need to stop reminding myself how boring this place is.

I squint, and the wall in the distance is just visible; tall and grey it blends with the dull lifeless sky hanging above us. The fields are completely empty of people. No one works on Sunday, it's the day we get to rest, spend time with family and pursue any hobbies we might have which are limited due to the lack of... well, the lack of everything.

One more year of school, and this will become my entire life. Cabins and fields will be all I see till the day I die. That's depressing. I cross my arms and dig them into my stomach to suppress the void expanding inside me.

I nod in greeting to people who pass by. I don't know why I bother. I understand it's polite, especially as I recognise every face and know all their names which happens when you live in a settlement of about hundred and thirty-something people. However, no conversation occurs, it never will. We don't do small talk, not even a simple hello, that greeting is limited to a select few. The lack of talking is another way we reduce the chance of transmitting Virulence.