Empty - Jessica Wells
Empty by Jessica Wells was the First Place Winner of the 2021 Murrumbidgee Short Story Competition in the Under 18 Category.
One day we will die. It’s hard to come to terms with, but it’s the undeniable truth.
I look over at the colours of red, orange and yellow melting together to create the spectacle of a sunset. It was at this moment that I realised I needed to start living my life. I took in my backyard as I lay motionless on the lounge. My body is draped over the cushions. I take up all of the lounge, even with my small build. Alone. I’ve felt alone many times in the past year. COVID-19 has done that to a lot of people. Half the world in fact. Two years of my life wasted because of a stupid bat. I turn my head slightly, using the smallest amount of energy I can muster. My body hasn’t been coping with the lack of sport. Sometimes when you’re alone it’s hard to get outside and be active without a team to train for or friends to kick a footy with.
“I should go for a walk.”
My head is telling me to go, but my legs are telling me don’t you dare. I adjust my body on the chair and sit up, my back cracking in the process from laying in an awkward position. I pick up my phone. No notifications. Maybe people are just too busy with their own lives. I’m sure that’s the explanation for why no one has texted or called me this week or last. Lockdown ended yesterday and people have already posted on their stories the new things they are getting up to. A twinge of jealousy seizes a hold of me. My forehead starts to pound at an alarming rate and my lungs feel like they are being strangled. No one’s even reached out to meet up yet.
Does anyone even care anymore?
“No, don’t be silly.” My head stops pounding, and I let out a deep breath after holding it in for so long. I tell myself; this is all in my head. I’m making up fake scenarios again. It’s just me overthinking like usual.
I do what I do every night after online schooling. I eat dinner. I watch TV. I scroll through my phone. I fall into a restless sleep. The next morning was a Friday. The last day of online schooling. Next week, I would have to test my feeble social skills and actually talk to people.
“Crap.”
I rise sulkily from my muted, paper white bed sheets and sit hunched until my eyes fully adjust to the sun shining into my bedroom. I’ve come to the bitter realisation I’ll have to actually make an effort with my appearance when school goes back. Hundreds of different thoughts and fears fill my head like a dark cloud. They consist of possible problems about going back to school, and the preparation I still have to do. I just feel emotionless in all of this, it feels like my head is either too full, or too empty. I can’t explain it. When people ask if I’m okay, I say I’m fine, and if they press on, I might reply that school is a bit stressful. The truth is I have no idea what my head and body are doing half the time. I just rise, bore my brain and then rest my body till the next morning. Routine. I think I’d go insane if I didn’t have one.
My eyes fully open and I clean the sleep that built up on my eyelids overnight. I use all the strength I have and escape the warmth and comfort of my bed. My toes seize up from the prickling cold. Step by step, my feet drag my body to the kitchen. I say my hellos and good mornings to my siblings and parents. They mumble back. I think we are all just sick of each other at this point. Nearly all the love I have in my body is for my family. But a month or two spent with only your family and no other physical interaction with anyone else, would drive anyone insane. I do miss my friends, but I can wait until school to see them in person. My social battery can’t take a public outing just yet. I clutch my head tight, hoping to ease the headache that was beginning. If I do meet up with people, I will say the wrong thing, and no one will want to invite me over again. I glance over to my alarm clock. The LED lights blink, barking at me that the time is 9:00am. I’ve got a Zoom in ten minutes. My stomach drops and it twists and turns within me. To say Zoom calls are the worst is a polite understatement. Its bad enough when you get forced to answer in a class but when a teacher singles you out on Zoom, you know everyone is watching. Everyone eagerly awaits your answer like a dog waiting to be given a bone. A hot flush comes over me and my mouth goes dry if I’m even asked the simplest of questions. I unplug my laptop from its charger and log on. Luckily the Zoom is over before 9:30am and my anxiety levels decrease. My stomach isn’t tight anymore and my breathing becomes steadier.
I rub my eyes to deal with the light beaming from my laptop’s screen. I run my fingers through my oily hair as I check what I have to do today. A history assignment and geography assignment are due today and I also have two more zooms to log on to. In addition to that work, I have worksheets and notes that I didn’t finish from the week before. I huff in frustration. Tears start to prick my tender eyes. I stare at the list I’ve made of what I have to do. It is all way too much. I’ll do my assignments but I’m sure my teachers won’t mind if I haven’t handed in one or two pieces of work. I wish I was more of a carefree peacock, who strides with confidence and not a human ball of stress and fear. I know that some of my friends would be gaming right now and would not have even opened up Google Classroom for the past week. It makes me bubble up with feelings of anger and irritation. But it’s not my life. All I can do is control my life and just keep doing what I’m doing. I’m sure all this effort and angst is all worth it. But still.
Why do I care so much?
Why do I even bother?
When will the world’s cruelty end?
My clock cries at me again with the time 4:00pm. My two assignments are handed in and I attended one of the two Zooms. I put my laptop on the charger. It probably wont be touched again for a while. I’m fine with that. I crawl into my soft bed and relish the idea of more sleep. I don’t fall asleep immediately but instead, I think to myself on how this nightmare might be over soon. I will get my vaccine in the coming weeks, and we will return to normal eventually. Not that I know what is considered the world’s normal anymore. COVID-19 has numbed me, and I don’t know what I want to do with my life or if it’s even possible anymore.
How many more times will we go into lockdown?
For how much longer will we have to wear masks and sign in and keep 1.5 metres apart?
When will we return to the so called ‘normal’?
The scariest part is absolutely no one knows. COVID-19 has brought a new meaning of unknown to the world and it’s terrifying. It has changed the lives of everyone on this earth.
Luckily, I haven’t lost a family member to the ever-spreading disease, and I haven’t lost friends due to separation. Instead, I’ve lost a part of myself. I am grateful because I was fortunate enough to have had people that reached out every now and then and my family was always there to support me. But although I had all these people around me, it was still the loneliest I had ever felt. I lost my confidence, I lost my passion for things I previously loved, I lost my motivation and they all made up a part of me that I don’t know if I’ll ever get back. But for now, I’m ready to face the world again. My social battery is starting to charge up. I think I’m ready to do something with my life. I think I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I need to make this life worth living. Life is much too short to be wasted.
