Anxious waiting

Estella Linjie Yan (age 13)
coordinator for Puxue Huizhi School: Jonathan Blake and Mirjana Petrovic-Filipovic
school: Xuzhou Puxue Huizhi School
Xuzhou, China

“What's your name?” I asked.

“I don't know.” It replied in a monotone voice.

The virus hangs like a red fly in the rain; the loneliness it creates touches the transparent waves. The passageways are wet, so getting under the house's eaves becomes difficult. The body of the red fly-like visitor is round with sharp spines, and it's moist. Jealousy is like a vine pattern, but it is also seedless, greedy, absorbing, often tangled, and dyed red. When the virus drips into the house, its narrow wrist swings its deadly blade and cuts. The red dye runs, and cold blood splashes down its back. It is engraved with round, sharp, strange new words.

“I don't know.” It said again, but this time a bit livelier.

It must be some terrible thing – this coronavirus.

On a warm, cloudy day, the dormitory packed with only four people was surprisingly quiet. The light left last night was still shining yellow, and the thin fog in the room was dense. The light reflected from the lattice window formed a crack in the fog. The curtain was heavy and was reflecting faintly but not completely. The faint breath of others was floating in the air; the door had been suddenly opened. The cold air in late autumn outside the door was enchanting, and a gust of wind dragged in the frosty air. With the door open, the dormitories were filled like busy spring festival transportation in the morning. “You can sleep until noon today.” teacher Lucy came in and said, “We will stay in school for three days. The school is closed.” she kept saying, “We will stay in school for three days.”. As I was sitting up from bed, I thought it was time to get up, but my head was still groggy; I just thought I could sleep until noon without considering any other influences. It came to me abruptly that it was already nine o'clock.

“It's your turn to roll the dice,” Karen said.

We were bored. Fortunately, the seventh graders next door brought a game of chess to play, but in the end, it just ended, so the atmosphere of boredom continued to spread and grow.

“When can I go out to school?” someone said, but I wasn't sure who was talking in the dark.

It is hard to be sealed in the dormitory, to tell the truth. I want to learn, but I need more strength to do that. I have no choice. Do I?

“All intense emotions originate from the ups and downs of life. The mood is naturally not painful or itchy when no wind or waves.” I have been in quarantine for a long time these days. I looked forward to only 40 minutes of outdoor activities in the afternoon every day. Maybe I was sweating too much and excreted all the water and salts from my body, but it was also mixed with negative emotions and pent-up grievances.

Another bath is like a rebirth.

I will take a bath when I am really free. The water in late autumn is mixed with the cool autumn wind, washing away my cloudy and turbid brain from lying on the dormitory bed all day in exchange for a moment of sobriety.

The moist air comes to my face, passing through the absurd moment that has not yet come to pass.

I raised my head, and the shower flow rushed towards my face full of foam, finally understanding why people praised the rainstorm. Because people tired of mechanical numbness are forced to break through, they need to shout, express themselves thoroughly, not be suppressed, and not be afraid. Therefore, this narrow and embarrassing shower looked like the Gobi Desert in the rainstorm, and the brain was quiet and hoarse, crying out the desire for freedom.

They only need the energy the rainstorm gives – from that pulse to the tip of the heart, out of fear and forward.

I don't want to be idle and numb. I want real pain; I want freedom!

“I want to go home,” I whispered to myself.

“Wait a minute, hold on,” a voice called back.