The White Plague

    It was 2007 when the first case was reported. Her name was Meri, a young woman in her early twenties. Everyone now knows her image, her life. Thousands of articles, books and movies since her death have come out about the White Plague and each and everyone always gave their own opinion how a white woman from Wisconsin could contract such a deadly infections disease. Some think it was a random mutation in her DNA, others a bio-weapon invented by terrorists and of course there were those who think its aliens experimenting on the Human species.

    The White Plague. As much, and as little as we know about it, no one knows who coined the term, but it was pretty accurate. Sure sure, it has a big long complicated scientific name, but the White Plague is so accurate. Sure, it could have been the Caucasian Plague but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it does it?

      I digress. I was asked after 30 years to tell my tale. You see I was there. I was there in that ER when Meri was brought in with an extremely high fever coughing blood. I was there when she died in a most bizarre and frightening way. I was there when the ER was quarantined. I was there when the first ER nurse began showing similar symptoms 5 days later. I was still there when the TV reported similar deaths in the two Paramedics who brought Meri in and who had left the hospital before her death had died. I was there, in quarantine, watching the reports, watching others one bye one succumbing. I waited and watched as everyone in ER succumbed. I was number 48 in the ER to contract the White Plague, I was part of the 3% who survive the Plague. I'm not so sure if I was “lucky." For the next 15 years I and those few who survived the first wave were tested, poked and prodded. Our blood tested, our genes examined our entire lifestyle questioned. Everyone else who survived had their blood taken and then were permitted to begin grieving and moving on with their lives. Not us. Oh so not us. We were at ground zero, we were there when Meri arrived, logically we our or bodies should know something. Ha.

      I remember it clearly. It was hot, late July, early August of 2022 when the announcement came: not one single reported death or incident of the White Plague in a year. After 14 years of outbreaks throughout the world it was over. Only 4% of the world's Caucasian and those with Caucasian heritage were left alive. Out of that paltry 4% only less then 1% had never contracted the White Plague. A small, small comfort for us survivors, as we recovered from the extreme lost was the generation after us. Yes, our children. Every mother, every father watched their precious children grow, praying that their children were immune to the White Plague.

      In less then a generation the “powerful” white race had been decimated into a minority of minorities. My fellow Caucasians may hate me for my sarcasm, then again they may not. Of those of us left, some are so bitter, so distraught all they can think of those “victories” the Caucasians had at their height. They epitomize the KKK, the Colonies, the Empires: Rome, England, Germany heck even the dominance in the political arena of the USA. Anywhere where Caucasians ruled, where Whites had dominate power they hold dear as if its some sort of religious tome. They cannot see beyond their own blind lust for a place to be loved to see the evils in those groups, those societies they glorify. Even as the world changed around them to deal with the massive deaths, they could not move on. They begged for death but have not the courage to be the one to bring it and so they start trouble.

      I digress. I was asked after 30 years to tell my tale. 30 years, three-zero since Meri was rolled into my ER. 16 years since the last case was reported. 10 years since the end of World War III, sometimes called the War for Dominance. 5 years since the formation of the Coalition. I lived through it all. And I survived. This is my story………