The virus couldn’t get us if we went outside but only a few of us would venture out into the world, and only for curiosity sake. Cyberspace had never been the same since the bug that killed thousands of internet lives had been unleashed on the world. Leaving the house had been the only means of survival for our digital selves. It had spread far and fast, claiming the virtual lives of men, women, and tele-parented children. We would never feel the same online again.

It started in China and spread throughout the world in retweets and retags. Once you clicked on an infected link you would receive a notice that threatened to expose your browsing history. Some didn’t care and continued browsing indiscriminately. I’ve seen it infect avatars that where not cautious enough. They would go online claiming the virus was just a government experiment to test the nation’s preparedness to go outdoors. If this were true then it would mean that we failed, miserably.

It was only when the avatars started disappearing that people started paying attention. At first, their online personas would get stuck in virtual environments, forcing them to act foolish, eventually causing them to lose friends. It meant the death of their public accounts. Many people chose to delete their accounts. The self-obsessed called it the Great Equalizer because it didn’t care who it infected. They would say it with eager confidence, as if the words proved useful but I’ve never heard anyone say: “Thank God we are finally equal.”

The government mandate that forced people to go outside was the next match that lit the fuse. They told people to “shelter face-to-face.” The Great Equalizer turned us into gesticulating cattle. Although the disease was bad, the aftereffect was far worse. It was hard to say when the rantings and ravings started but the damage to the psyche of internet users had been done. Once vloggers posted videos of themselves complaining about the virtual quarantine everyone had to join in and add their two cents.

Teens seemed to be affected the most, not understanding adaptation and questioning their own existence in the process. Riddled with angst as it was, they voiced their concerns, struggling from the lack of public attention.

“I’m so lost. I used to go into the online world to get rid of the boredom. I can’t believe I have to shower every day.” Was one comment.

Some of them bordered on the absurd: “I’m scared. I used to have virtual friends. Now I have to make real ones. It makes my stomach hurt.”

And another: “I was safe inside my house. If I go outside, I might get hurt or worse, I might have to go to school.”

Then I realized that perhaps they were being driven insane from the agoraphobia. “My dad’s never home! He had to get a job during all this crap.”

Celebrities were the next group to add their voices to the pointless banter, that was if they had a platform to do so. “Virus got a hold of my accounts. Going offline for a while. This blows.”

“Can’t believe they got me. End of the world? Yes. My career is over. This is like a digital holocaust.”

One even tried to ask for solidarity: “Please join me in deleting my accounts. We can do this together if we just hold hands. Everyone, please listen to me. Your social media depends on it.”

I pity them, but only for their suffering over their own entitlements. They’re trapped inside their self-imposed cages, in search of cheap-thrills. What purpose is it to fight a pandemic with complaints? Impatience would never grow un-ripened fruit.

They want to be told that everything is okay and that they can stay home. However, they offered no sympathy to the people who risked their social media accounts to diagnose the disease and to pander to users who wished to remain online. I can’t stop thinking about them. The real heroes who had to accept web chats from users who lost in-game purchases and hundreds of hours of virtual progress.

Once a majority of us went offline and outside we realized it wasn’t so bad. We survived the digital massacre and saw it as a test of free-will, where we had to make the difficult decision. A decision that was based on the understanding that a little sacrifice would go a long way.