The Silent Quarantine.

                                    

                                          
After grade six, everything changed. The world seemed to stop when the pandemic hit. Schools closed down, and quarantine became the new reality. The isolation we all felt was overwhelming. The laughter, the conversations, the connection I once had with everyone around me—suddenly, it all faded away. But the hardest part wasn’t just the virus or the confinement; it was the separation from Nancy.
We had been inseparable throughout school. We shared our thoughts, our secrets, and our dreams. But with quarantine came distance—physical and emotional. The lockdowns meant we couldn’t hang out after school, couldn’t meet up at the park, and worst of all, we couldn’t even talk to each other the way we used to. My parents, particularly my mother, were strict about everything, and a phone was something I could only dream of. She said I didn’t need one, that all the distractions were pointless.
"Friendships are a waste of time," she would say, dismissing any notion of me needing a phone to stay in touch with my friends. "Focus on your future, not on things that don’t matter."
But little did she know, Nancy wasn’t just a friend to me. She was my lifeline. More than a friend, she was a sister, someone who understood me more than anyone else. The love I felt for her was something even my mother couldn’t comprehend.
The first few days of isolation were okay, just adjusting to the new normal. But soon, I started to feel the distance between us, and the silence between us became deafening. Nancy and I tried to find ways to communicate, but it was difficult. We could never just text or call freely because my mother kept a tight watch on me. Any attempt to message Nancy would be met with a disapproving glance or a sharp comment from my mother.
One evening, as I sat in my room, the clock ticking away the endless hours, I thought about all the memories we had shared. The laughter, the inside jokes, the shared dreams. I missed her more than I could put into words.
I remembered the last time we had really talked, months ago, before everything changed. Nancy had looked at me and said, “No matter what happens, we’ll always find a way. Even if we’re miles apart.”
I clung to those words like a lifeline. They were the only comfort I had in a world that now felt like it was closing in on me. The absence of her voice, the absence of her presence, was more than just loneliness—it was a deep ache in my chest.
But there was nothing I could do. My mom’s rules were clear. She didn’t believe in the importance of friendships, especially not when it came to the kind of bond Nancy and I shared.
A few weeks into the quarantine, I was sitting in the living room, trying to focus on an online class. My mom, as always, was in the kitchen, cleaning. She called me over, and I reluctantly walked into the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t say something that would upset me.
“You need to stop spending all your time thinking about that girl, Nancy,” she said as she wiped down the counter, her back to me. “You need to focus on your schoolwork, your future. Friendships won’t get you anywhere.”
I felt my heart tighten. I knew that what she said was coming from a place of concern, but it hurt all the same. It was as if she couldn’t see how much Nancy meant to me, how much I relied on her not just for fun, but for support, for understanding.
I took a deep breath. “You don’t understand, Mom,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended. “Nancy isn’t just a friend to me. She’s… she’s more than that. She means everything to me. More than you can imagine.”
My mom paused for a moment, turning to face me, her eyes narrowing with confusion. “What do you mean? A friendship isn’t something that can replace family. You should know that by now.”
I swallowed hard, the words caught in my throat. I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell her that Nancy was the one person who never judged me, who always understood my silences, who could make me smile even in the darkest moments. But I couldn’t. How could I make her see? How could I explain something that felt so deeply personal, something so beyond just a ‘friendship’?
“Mom, please,” I whispered. “You don’t get it.”
She didn’t say anything else, just shook her head, as though dismissing the conversation entirely. It was clear that the bond I shared with Nancy didn’t make sense to her, just like everything else about the world right now didn’t make sense to any of us.
I retreated back to my room, my heart heavy. I missed her more than ever now. The silence between us was unbearable. And yet, there was nothing I could do to bridge the gap. The quarantine had not just isolated us physically, but emotionally too.
Every day, I would find myself hoping that things would change. That the world would return to normal. That I could call Nancy without fear of being caught. But even in this silence, I knew that our friendship wasn’t over. It couldn’t be. No matter the distance, no matter the circumstances, Nancy and I would find a way back to each other.
She had told me that, and I believed her.
I just had to hold on a little longer.
____________________________________________________________________________