literature

Her Biggest Story

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Literature Text

Karen had the second slot on the morning news. Her report was following live footage from a camera crew, who had been embedded in a platoon engaging in a major search and destroy mission.

Karen and her crew had cable in their hotel rooms and as they killed time before their afternoon flight, they were able to tune into the news programme that the British public would be waking up to. Electricity had been restored, two weeks after the quake. They watched the shaky camera images of soldiers running from doorway to rubble to car wreck, smoke pouring into the sky. Automatic gunfire crackled, and the soldiers fired back at the ever invisible enemy.

Then the studio presenters introduced her story. Her face filled half the screen, microphone held to her face. She was stood on a hill, and over her shoulder bulldozers and diggers worked along streets to clear the rubble of a ruined city.

‘...aid continues to be flown in and United Nations police are still supporting local security services. In a press conference held yesterday in New York, the United Nations General Secretary promised that the UN would continue to provide aid and assist in the reconstruction of the country. Meanwhile, the survivors attempt to rebuild their lives. This is Karen Williams for BNC.’

They had been there practically from the beginning. Travelling light, Karen and her cameraman had been one of the first to arrive after the earthquake. Her first report had recorded the vanguard of the international response. They covered the growing numbers of soldiers and aid workers as the local people tried to rescue survivors and recover what possessions remained. Karen’s team had discovered a young mother with her child; they were the only survivors of a family of twelve. The mother had an infected wound on her leg, and was mute with shock. Named ‘Jade,’ Karen and her team reported on her as the human face of the disaster.

Jade became sicker. Then the child died. Left with no-one in her life, Jade lost the will to live. It was the final report that they would broadcast from the country. The situation was no longer news worthy. The editor back in London said there were rumours of an award for Karen’s work.

She was about to switch off the television when the next story broke her from her reverie. The expressions of the presenters, which had been plastic-faced for the daily reportage of war and disaster, took on a sudden earnest enthusiasm.

‘And now breaking news. Experts from the World Health Organisation are investigating an outbreak of illness in Brazil. Estimates from the Brazilian Ministry of Health report that already up to ninety people may have died in the city of Sao Paulo, and quarantine measures are currently in force. The Health Secretary George Andrews is due to speak later this morning.’

* * *

It took sixteen hours to reach the UK. By then the word pandemic was everywhere. Media doctrines, practiced by bird and swine flu scares, had swung into motion with efficiency that civil servants envied. The disease had spread to three other South American countries, and there were reports from Spain.

Karen was on leave after her trip. Like an addict, she sought news. She watched the spread in realtime across the world on the internet and television.

They gave it a name: AP-Zero-C.

AP0C.

Eventually the internet didn’t give her enough of a fix. She went into work, to be at the centre.

She called her brother on the way.

‘Are you okay? What are you doing? You should come round to ours.’
‘I’m fine Simon. And I can’t right now, I’m going to the BNC. I might pop in tomorrow.’

‘Karen! Why? You know this is really happening? This isn’t Afghanistan.. it’s not Brazil. It’s here and it’s happening to us.’

‘Yes, yes! I know, I’ve been watching the news all day.’

* * *

The BNC was manic. Everyone knew they were covering the biggest story ever. The apocalypse, the end of human kind itself. They talked of nothing else. She’d only been there five minutes when she was roped into editing a report.

She was in the toilet, when she saw a blotch on her leg.

It was one of the first symptoms of AP0C.

Her producer was ecstatic. They could cover the disease first hand. She was quarantined. She gave reports on her status every hour.

Her brother called her.

‘I’m sorry Karen, I can’t come in,’ his voice was bleak. His daughter had contracted the disease as well.

‘I know, I understand. There’s plenty going on around here as well.’

‘Yes, we saw you on the news. Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

* * *

She watched the progress in the rest of the world on the television. Things were starting to fall apart. The two regular BNC presenters had to be replaced. Eventually the BNC stopped broadcasting altogether.

* * *

It was two days since she had first noticed the blotches. They had gradually spread over her entire body. She didn’t feel anything unusual. All that she had to do was wait.

Suddenly her breath came short. This was it. She looked around, panic rising within her.

She was alone, apart from the inexpressive black lenses of the cameras. She took a final desperate breath.

‘Simon? Mum... Dad?’
I think that some struggle to see the difference between reporting on events and vulture like voyeurism of human suffering.

I had the idea for this before I heard about Haiti, but watching the news over the past few days has given me a great deal of.. material to draw ideas from.

One particular image sticks in my mind, of an ITN presenter shoving his microphone into a hole to speak to a trapped woman.

Credit to one of my housemates for the name of the virus :B

Anyway, please tell me if I've made the right impact. What message do you get from this?
© 2010 - 2024 PlasticusForkus
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MetalMagpie's avatar
Wow, this certainly packs a punch.

The treatment of "Jade" by the reporter is really chilling. And then her obsession with following (and then being in the centre of) the news, right up until she realises she really is going to die.

It also nicely combines two recent news topics. Always good to be topical.

I'd say you hit your message square on. :clap: