Descriptive Essay: Ethan Harwood's Journey Home

The dense, thick smog enveloped every living thing, turning them into thoughtless creatures. The grey, rectangular structures extended into the atmosphere, blocking out the sun to create eternal darkness. Invisible eyes stalked them from the shadows, the Health Agents, listening to every word just like living security cameras. The threat of contamination haunted every mind scaring them into devastation, the virus controlled every thought except those of the unique.

Ethan Harwood stood in his business suit with brown hair, greying at the temples and his blue eyes, dulled with despair. The circle of metallic and shiny scanners marked the centre of the city, where Ethan travelled every morning. The red and green lights perched atop the scanners determined your life; as usual Ethan placed his nicotine-stained finger onto the small black square to have his skin checked for contamination, the light was green. However, Ethan’s
Now that he had suspicions about the Health Organisation, he knew that tomorrow’s appointment was not going to go well.

After an exhausting day at work, the blue sheets on Ethan’s bed, which took up most of the room in his tiny apartment, looked inviting. “Psychiatric appointment,” repeatedly echoed in his head, preventing him from the blissful sleep he yearned for. As morning broke, he lay motionless on his bed, thinking about the conversation, that would happen later on that day.

He sat nervously in the waiting room. “Ethan Harwood, room twelve,” the speakers called in a monotonous tone. The sparse meeting room, had Health Organisation posters hung up on the walls. Ethan’s heart started to race faster and his knuckles were becoming whiter every