I was perturbed by learning that my country had recorded its first case of Covid19 and a month later, numbers are burgeoning .The question that keeps me up in the dead of night is, what if this is just the beginning?
Quarantine is a fancy word to those with loads of food and peaceful homes, but it isn’t to people like me with abusive fathers and anxiety disorders. It’s hard to stay home when food is found by crossing borders or pushing rubble with bulldozers.
The hours slowly tick by and I feel like a prisoner doing life without parole,
Anybody there hello??
When I go shopping, the women in the markets are gone,
As well as the ladies found by the salon.
Children no longer play in the street; do they have anything to eat?
It’s only me and my silhouette, so I go back inside to live everyday like every day.
People have given up moving around, having fun or traveling as a quid pro quo for staying alive and even though my government is moving up and down, many are tired of the status quo. They call trying to keep people away from the streets police brutality. Is it? I cannot put the blame on anybody as the world is in a helter skelter situation and needs a hug.
Before this pandemic, I never went to school, or church, or work. Consequently, the only thing that this virus has taken away from me is “hope”. Hope that I’ll be granted a scholarship or find a job or just leave the house and be free from torment. There is just nowhere to run. I can’t help but think about the apocalypse, and if that happens, I am happy I attained something, I wrote this essay and somebody read it.
Wearing masks is now obligatory and no one should fall by the wayside because we look like teenage mutant ninja turtles ready to fight. I am Michelangelo.
The silver lining is everybody will emerge a better person and learn to appreciate things we once took for granted, like touring freely or just visiting friends and family.
Well, —I am listening to Avicii’s song and going back to bed, wake me up when it’s all over.