Digi The Killer's
Computer Victim Rehab Center
The pair of creatures that long-lived was caught entering the corridor as shown by the very fierce nurse. They looked to the left and right while walking in the gamang Lekaki old, who had started myopic, seemed to try to read the writing stuck on the door. He's actually still like 20 years ago or younger than that, but why does writing become so unreadable.
On the left of the aisle was tacked on, “Computer Victim Rehabilitation Center”. Fortunately the writing is rather large so it is read immediately. The joints of his legs that began to be fragile are still strived to walk further. He was still looking at the writing that was stuck around. On the left it says, “Inpatient Inpatient Lost Memory”.
“Still far, Sir?”
“Sister said, still one block away,” the man replied while holding his wife who walked more slowly and somewhat behind. After limping, his head finally looked to the left.
Sister said correctly, because above the door it was written, “Center Rehabilitation Cell Phone Victims”, Without hesitation enter into. But just a few steps, she was intercepted by yet again, a nun.
“Are Fathers and Mothers Parents Brother Iman?”
“Yes. At maan our son?”
“She's still in the treatment room coming out soon.”
“If we are still in the treatment room, why were we sent here?”
“Here is better than waiting outside there.”
And they were forced to sit on a rattan chair by the wall. Of course with very upset breaths Many times have to wait, But what can make.”
While waiting, the old man got up and looked at the poster on the wall, right in front of him.
Are you the next victim?
Computer viruses are not contagious
But it can attack you at any time
There is no cure yet
Who can return
So …
Are you the next victim?
The old man just took a slow breath. In pain, there are no cell phones or other electronic devices. He felt grateful he could not take advantage of the technological sophistication that is now felt by his children and grandchildren. It is more aptly called a scare than a dancing one, written in large, blood-red letters. Even more frightening is a whiteboard consisting of columns of several lines written with black markers. Above the table it is titled, “List of Victims of Computer Outbreak Kwartal Last”.
Read slowly. 1,299,290 people died, 367,489 were seriously injured, and 36,458 were slightly injured. In the hospital, 4,579 patients. In graphic form, the deceased turned out to be so drastic that the number line was as high as upright and stood like a coconut tree. The increase occurred not in years, but month after month. Next to him is written how someone does first aid to those who are infected with digital viruses. First, they must turn off digital items such as cellphones, computers, walkman, radio, or other equipment that uses digital technology systems. Second, after making sure all the victim's electronics are laid down and led to say the holy sentences in the book of worship. And the third is to ask for the name, address, and the position, If you can say the holy pronunciation, it means there is no need to do the third step, because there is only a mild infection. But when the victim can no longer name, address, and other identity of himself, it is necessary to take the fourth step, which is to escape to a special hospital that handles victims of digial technology virus.
The old man's knees were shaking again. He remembered his son who was lying weak. And that means it has already passed the fourth step.
His son is under threat!
Moreover, coupled with the fact that there has been an increase in the level of awareness due to digital technology viruses. The old man felt short of breath. He held onto his chest, but not for long, as he immediately looked for a seat that was behind where he stood. His eyes jumped here and there. It clearly showed the changed man was no longer calm. Every few medics came out of the matana treatment room wide open and when they did not approach, the old man went back to his feet. And pensive. And sculpting. And his eyes glazed over.
His wife who was in her milk looked at her husband with sadness. He couldn't bear to pretend to be tough. She finally really cried.
“People from Brother Faith?”
“The old man was grazed. His eyes widened. His hand was like grabbing something when he was about to stand up. Stared at someone dressed in white standing perfectly before him. Smiling, his glasses sagged slightly.
He tried many times to reply with a smile before he could adjust the condition of his son.
“This father is his parents?”
“Yes, Doctor. What about my son?”
The doctor breathed for a moment, then exhaled quickly. “The Father's son is no longer apologized. We are sorry.”
The young, white-clothed Dokjer put his nose back on, turned around, and left. The word “meningal” pronounced the doctor so light without burden, as he said, “Hai, want kemaba” or are eating nuts. Perhaps for doctors, death is nothing more than eating peanuts in an emperan stall.
***