Outbreak by C.M. Gray Page A

device. On the screen was a girl wearing a sparkly dress and a crown.
    â€˜Are you playing Princess Sparkle again?’ I didn’t even try to hide my snort of laughter.
    â€˜Get lost!’ Michael turned so I couldn’t see the screen.
    A while ago, our parents had banned Michael from playing violent video games ’cause he’d suddenly started acting weird. They thought the games had affected him, but the truth was, he’d caught a glimpse ofmy glowing zombie eyes and freaked out. Ever since then, Michael had only been allowed to play stuff made for little kids. Princess Sparkle and Her Magic Glitter is about this princess who throws glitter into the faces of her enemies and says things like, ‘ It’s OK not to be perfect! ’ and ‘ Every day is a second chance! ’
    Totally. Lame.
    The weird thing was that after a month or two of playing it, Michael had become even more obsessed with that game than he’d ever been with the violent stuff.
    â€˜ You’ve done it! ’ came Princess Sparkle’s voice again. ‘ You’ve unlocked the next level. Remember, there’s no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs. ’

    Princess Sparkle
    I rolled my eyes. Princess Sparkle made me want to vomit. As if glitter would be a useful weapon! Luckily, I hadn’t been banned from decent games.
    I yawned and stretched, wondering if I should bother going back to bed. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, but at least my bed would be warm.
    I was heading to my room when I glanced across the hall and noticed the lumpy shape in Michael’s bed again. If my brother wasn’t in it, then who was? I crept into his room. Up close, I could see that it wasn’t a human shape at all. I flipped back the blankets. Pillows! And Princess Sparkle figurines! I didn’t even know he’d started collecting them.
    Suddenly, I had an idea.

    Run Princess Sparkle, Run!
    I went into my room and pulled on my clothes. I could hear Mum getting out of bed so there was no point in crawling back under the covers now.
    Just as I finished getting dressed, she poked her head around the door. ‘Oh, you’re up already? Good. Don’t forget, today’s the last day of term.’
    I’d completely forgotten we were nearly on holidays. Two weeks off school! The days seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of me. Suddenly I felt rich.
    I followed Mum into the kitchen. ‘What are you going to have for breakfast?’ she asked, switching on the kettle.
    â€˜What is there?’
    â€˜Look in the cupboard. There’s cereal, toast, fruit . . . what do you feel like?’
    â€˜I dunno. Maybe toast,’ I told her.
    â€˜Well, pop some in the toaster.’
    I sighed. ‘I always burn it!’
    Mum was forever trying to make me do things for myself. But I’ve noticed that if I do them badly enough, sometimes she just takes over and does them herself. I don’t think she really minds. In fact, I’m pretty sure it makes her feel useful.
    â€˜BENJAMIN ROY! I am not your slave. If toast is too much trouble, you’ll have to get yourself some cereal or go hungry!’
    â€˜OK! OK!’ I tipped cereal into a bowl. My strategy usually worked. But I must’ve misjudged Mum’s need to feel useful this morning.
    â€˜I need a coffee,’ Mum said, spooning instant coffee into her cup. She poured in boiling water and milk with a frown. She was always grumpy until she’d had her first coffee of the day. She tried togulp it down. ‘Ouch! Hot!’ She fanned her mouth with one hand.

    Michael appeared, whistling cheerfully. He mustn’t have noticed the figurines yet.
    â€˜You’re in a good mood this morning,’ said Mum.
    â€˜Last day of school.’ He grabbed a slice of bread and spread butter and jam on it, then stuffed half of it into his mouth.
    â€˜Slow down before you choke,’ said Mum.