“BEEP. BEEP.” The dreaded alarm blares into Rose’s head. She slouches upward, sighs and grabs the alarm, forcefully turning it off. She slides down the stairs in an awful mood, not even bothering to eat. Rose greets her parents and wishes them a good day at work, then returns upstairs and aggressively unplugs her Chromebook while suppressing a loud sigh. She opens it and clicks the link, leading her to the next 6 hours of her day. Her teacher greets her, although it is not how it used to be. A once warm welcome is now a stressful encounter for both. The teacher constantly seems in a frenzy, trying to work a computer and students in class and ensuring everyone is safe. Rose feels isolated behind her screen, and constantly regrets not appreciating the warm and friendly morning encounters with teachers. She frequently becomes reminiscent over the times when the virus didn’t take over the world and ruin it. She smiles at the happy thoughts of her interactions throughout eighth grade, and how much she misses partner work and communicating with all of her friends at school. Rose misses when school was not only a place to learn, but a place to look forward to. She misses her science class last year, a rambunctious class, but a fun one. She loved her teacher and the girl she sat next to. They would work together constantly and spend class chatting while doing work. She then exhales deeply, considering the fact that her freshman year is ruined and wonders if life will ever be normal. Rose suddenly gets called on, focusing back onto class. She wishes her teachers understood how much she cares about the class, but how difficult it is to pay attention. She unmutes shakily, hoping that her Wifi does not glitch and that she’s projecting her voice enough. Rose answers and continues to mute again. She stares at the 2 by 3 squares that are now her classmates. It begins to be difficult again to pay attention- she stares at the clock waiting for the 5 minute break to come so she can stretch and get a snack. She completes her work to the best of her ability, once again missing the beauty of partner work and the goofiness of the classroom environment. Life is so cold and bland now, and interactions are life threatening.
Finally, 2:10 arrives and she slams the Chromebook closed. Tears come to her eyes as she checks Powerschool. She did so well last year, but this year is so difficult. Her grades are slipping, and no matter how hard she is trying, they do not seem to be improving. She closes the app, noting to email certain teachers. She then goes downstairs and eats a snack, realizing she has hours of homework to return to her Chromebook and complete. Another thing that she misses, homework on paper. She rubs her throbbing temples that are burning from the screen. Once again, she finds herself reminiscing about life before. She misses concerts and interactions with kind strangers. She misses being able to see her friends without constant concern, and she misses the beauty of life - the connection with humans. It feels like a huge piece of her, such an extroverted person, taken away. She feels horrible for the children that are in vital parts of their lives that they won’t experience, but she can’t help feeling bad for herself. After the best parts of eighth grade were taken away from her, she was hoping high school would improve, although it did not. Life has only gotten worse, concerns have only gotten higher, as have risks. She sighs, trying to appreciate her good health and how hard healthcare workers are trying to keep people alive. Rose, a person who is always able to see the glass half full, is now struggling to do so.
The worst part about everything is how Rose does not know when life will go back to normal. She has listened to everyone’s opinion, but no one agrees. Everything is uncertain. It is scary, not knowing if life will ever return to normality. She tries to distract herself by returning upstairs and Facetiming her friends. They all feel the same way about life, so she does not feel alone. The girls chat for hours and for that time, she’s able to forget about all of the stress and uncertainties. She hangs up a few hours later when her mom arrives home. They discuss their days and sympathize for each other, understanding how difficult life feels now. Soon after she returns upstairs and begins the unforsaken task - homework. Sometimes homework can take her hours on end, and other times only a half hour. She completes it all until her eyes burn and she can barely open them, and shuts her computer and plugs it in. She sulks into bed and as soon as her head hits the pillow, she is out and the day repeats itself, the exact same way.
Rose is a representation of myself and thousands of other teens struggling in this pandemic. Stuck in this rotating cycle that is impossible to escape.