Pandemic Journal: Back From the Brink

Anonymous

April 2020

This is the first day everything feels normal - as normal as it’s going to get being in quarantine. My dad tested positive for COVID-19 a little over a week ago and the wave of depression that hit my family was almost as bad as getting sick. My house has no windows on the first floor, making it equivalent to a dungeon. It’s perfect for taking naps in the middle of the day because it’s as dark as a cave, but when we are all trapped inside of a house, darkness is the last thing you want. I spent days in my room, hearing the echo of my dad coughing. 

A couple days later, my mother couldn’t breath. I woke up at 2am in the morning by the floorboards creaking under her feet. She would walk slowly to the bathroom and heave before she got into the bathroom. The stifled coughs from the bathroom was enough to tell me she had it too. Almost a week and a half later, my brother and I still have no symptoms. Our backyard is the only escape from the endless coughs and mucus being spit up. I want to go on a walk so badly, but my guilt stops me from getting past our hallway. So I’ve resorted to sitting in the suburban-like chairs that my parents bought on sale at Lowes. Everything is screaming spring, and it doesn’t help the fact that I want to get out. Three backyards down a beautiful white tree is sprouting flowers, its shadow seemingly non-existent. I have a better view of it from my fire escape, but looking up at its grandness is something indescribable. 

My parents are starting to feel better, no longer pale with sunken eyes. Color returning to their eyes, like they have been brought back from the dead. They say it was only a bad flu, but I can’t tell if they are downplaying it. My dad always looks away trying not to talk towards me, as if that would prevent the spread of this virus. We distract ourselves from our static lives and sunbath, laughing at my dad for gaining a couple of pounds and my brother for thinking he has a six pack. It’s the most we can do right now, but it works.