The world is facing a major health crisis. This CoVid-19 pandemic is rattling our well-structured way of living.
Do you hear it?
It's deafening.
The silence that creeps, the coldness that creeks.
It's been a while. And it's been 7 days since I got here.
I'm home. Or am I?
I thought it was already far beyond me - the fear, the pain, the loneliness.
Day 1, it was all good. It was still funny I had to keep a distance.
I had to take off my jacket as soon as I entered the gate.
I had to drop all my things as far as possible where they'd be toasted by the sun.
I even had to eat my lunch in the garage since I wasn't able to clean myself up yet.
You know, the CoVid-19 giving us nightmares.
But I repeat, it was still all good and funny.
Day 2 was a little loneliness-inviting.
It was a Sunday and before the pandemic, it meant Famday Funday.
Mass gatherings were discouraged. Eucharistic celebrations were done on closed doors.
No Mass-dine-stroll for us. Oh and I'm forgetting.
Even though mass gatherings were not suspended, I'd still be not able to go out and join.
I forgot to mention I'm a Person-Under-Monitoring meaning, I'm in a 14-day quarantine.
They still went out. You know, to do the groceries and keep us stocked with what we need.
I was still locking myself up in the room I now call mine. Still a little anxious for coming home.
Did I make the right decision? Was it really best to come home?
Or did I just put everyone around me in danger?
Day 3, a Monday. My father left for work. My mother as well, supposedly.
I woke up with my mother's quacking. Apparently she was sent home.
Reason? I came home. If that ain't a guilt bullesye, I dont know.. tell me what is.
She called my sister in the office. She want her home too. Reason? I came home.
She didn't want to cause the community unnecessary panic.
Well no one can be blamed for worrying for their lives, really.
But I know well what threat I pose to them and I'm not stubborn.
But really, no matter how well you understand, emotions really get to you. It was sad.
Day 4, was I getting paranoid?
I woke up feeling groggy, unable to breathe properly.
Yup, those could be symptoms for the CoVid-19.
I know I should have, but I didn't tell them yet. I didn't want to scare them.
Besides, I don't trust my judgment enough.
I had to convince myself this is just the quarantine talking.
I'm a very "active" person and staying locked in a room was really killing me.
So I looked up dance tutorial videos and got myself moving. Did it help? Sorta.
Day 5 I was regaining life.
I've convinced myself I'm well. And really, I do think I am, physically.
I was allowed to feed my dogs and it helped me more. I missed them so much.
Danced a little bit more before turning to my laptop for work.
Flash fiction with human protagonist set in the contemporary world. Here it goes:
The Apartment, the Cart, and the Baton
(From the protagonist’s desire to pop out of his safety bubble and get off his audience’s seat to make the world a place for everybody)
“Hey! Wanna play with us? You’ve been sitting there forever!” It’s been an hour since she’s been watching the other kids play and have fun.
“Sabi ni lolo dito lang ako sa kariton namin. Babalik din daw siya agad. Bibili lang ng betadine.” She looked in pain, touching her neck as she struggled for words.
They’re not gonna get far. She took off the cart and joined the kids. They all looked happy. They were laughing, taking turns with the bicycle until a baton touched her shoulder.
“What y’all kids doin here, huh? Dagdag pasaway! All you kids need to do is to fuckin’ stay your ass home!” The officer forced the kids into the van.
I wish I were quick and brave enough to jump out of my comfortable apartment. It is not the plague that is daunting, it’s our lack of humanity.
It wasn't creative, but it's reality.
Well except for the little tightening of my chest. Oh no, burning. It was heartburn.
I forgot I get those, acid reflux episodes.
It was really painful, but really not as painful as those back in the memory lane that seem go on and live forever.
I had to keep my small space, observe distance, and I even had to cut my tongue.
I grew up in this set-up but the fear, the pain, the loneliness, and the confusion never get old.
I have to understand. I trained myself to. But will I ever, completely?
When while I'm here, I'm a daughter.
When while I'm here, I'm a youngest sibling.
When while I'm here, I'm craving for love, for attention, for sanctuary.
Until I learn to be on my own, until I learn to be responsible for my well-being, I will never understand completely.
I thought I'd be able to let all these out but look, I still had it turned out a puzzle n maze.
P.S. I did a little makeover in my blog-site but I didn’t expect coming back this way.
