Start your story with this sentence:

August 17, 2096

The world did not end in a bang, or a whisper, but rather, one scream at a time. The deaths started seemingly randomly. They were gruesome, terrible things to witness. Seemingly perfectly healthy individuals would just start screaming. They would collapse on the ground, writhing in pain, the screams would only pause when they ran out of breath. Nothing stopped the pain, not medicine, not drugs, even when put under with anesthesia, the screams continued. The cases were sporadic, one in California,  another in Florida, Ohia, Texas, Washington. Nothing connecting those first few victims. The only thing they had in common was their age. 

The first cases were days apart, but the rate increased exponentially. The first to be taken by the screams were the oldest. At first it was just thought that something had broken inside of them. But before long the pattern was obvious to those who knew what to look for. The screams were working through the population by age. At this point we are in the 40s. Anyone older is dead save for a few hundred who were spared. What makes them unique nobody knows. The younger scientists are trying to figure out a cure, something to stop the death and save the human race. Those who have survived are being studied day in and day out. 

I’m 30 years old, at worst I have a few months to live. It’s unlikely that I will be one of the few lucky ones to be passed over. But I pray every day.

For now, I need to go out and help with the bodies. 

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