In the Pages I Lose Myself In Kayla Nicole De Quiroz
I used to be free, walking the long roads every night without a care in the world. The city lights would shine upon me as I skip happily on my way home. I owned the nights, for I never noticed that I was filled with sorrow. Until a tragedy struck. In a span of months, a virus has spread around the world and forced everyone apart. No more crowds and buses filled with workers coming home. Streets emptied out and became quiet. Fear lurks within us all, knowing how expensive it is to have ourselves cured of sickness. For the first time, death comes at a mere inhale. I was suddenly stuck at home with books that served as a gateway for my adventures. Hundreds of pages thick and stories crammed into tiny vessels. It feels as though I am one with all these stories. One time, I trudged the long roads with kings who fought wars, and queens ruling their lands. Another time I was in a dystopia, feeling the thrill of running away from my supposed sins, and another time, I was with wives, abused by their husbands while their children watched. I went along with each character from the pages of these books; cried and laughed, mustered up the courage to face their obstacles. There was nothing else I could do. They told us that life should continue as it is. Outside the pages, others made coffee, others danced to music, while others bonded with estranged family members. We never believed it. It was all a hoax. A ruse by powerful actors who play their little games. It will be all over in a short time, until that short time stretched longer than planned. I continued to do my work, to hang out with friends in the virtual world, and tried to see positivity in whatever odd angle I could conjure. Everyone found new ways to own their spaces and find life amid the struggle. I clung onto the hope that this is all a nightmare and I was simply too late in waking up. The strange feeling didn’t stop. It lingered at the back of my mind, like an itch waiting to be scratched. The anxiety—the fear of staying at the place that I loathed. I try to convince myself that things are fine as the
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