Unmasked

It’s really disappointing to me that this pandemic is ending, and everyone is unmasking. With my mask, I could move through crowds of people unnoticed, just one unremarkable person adrift in a sea of humanity. Unfortunately, my life is gradually returning to the hell it’s been since I was 4 years old. People will once again look at me and stare. The careless person who caused the crash walked away unscathed, but not me.

The car seat that saved my life was also the device that held me in place as the flames from the crash melted the skin off my face. After years of pain and countless surgeries, I was left with scars that I could hide with makeup and a disturbing grin. It’s the permanent grin for all the world to gawk at that is on constant display. Only a mask can cover it up.

Children have no social filters, so they are the cruelest of humans. Attending school was a daily nightmare of taunts and snickers. It didn’t help that the grin distorted my speech. I kept to myself as much as possible and became immersed in my studies, especially biochemistry. I graduated from college at sixteen and received my doctorate in biochemistry at 18. Now it was time to make my mark on the world.

When it comes to judging people by their work instead of their appearance, the scientific community does not differ from most of society. Early in my research, I discovered an enzyme capable of mutating viruses. These entities may be helpful in fighting cancer or creating deadly diseases. When I stood before a scientific review board to present my findings, the only thing that kept their attention was my permanent grin and my slurred speech. No matter how I tried to inform the world about the benefits and dangers of this enzyme, no one wanted to see past my disfigurement.

The proof of the pudding is in the eating, explains the old adage, so that’s what I have done. By inserting my special enzyme into the cold virus, I created COVID-19. It was payback time. I released my creation in the marketplace of my hometown, Wuhan. It spread as I calculated it would, but it took the researchers longer to find the antidote than I thought.

Once again, I tried to inform those in charge of my discovery, but my grin stole their attention. I talked to people from other countries, but the virus had become such a political football that no one wanted to know the how and why of its creation. I don’t understand how supposedly intelligent people can be so short-sighted. Who am I kidding? Of course, I know why I’m being ignored—money!

Big Pharma has invested millions in finding a cure. Now they want to make billions from what they have discovered. I would have been happy to share my cure with the world for free, but that would mean those in power would need to take me seriously instead of a freak with a deformed face. That’s okay, COVID is what it is. I need to move on to my next two creations.

I’m going to take a different approach to introduce these two gems to the world. The first little creature happily living in a test tube on my workbench will cure brain cancer. This time, I will bring my test results to the United States and present my findings to the Johns Hopkins research panel. Maybe they’ll see past my grin. If not, there’s always what’s in test tube number two—it melts brains.