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County Clare 2020: A Day in My Life
Creative Writing Competition for children and teenagers
Highly Commended 13 to 15 category

Clare 2020, A Day in My Life
by Julia Wiechcinska

... And so the song was sung anew. It filled my brain and awoke me from a light sleep. I groaned at the thought of the day ahead. My eyes strained against the watery sunlight that escaped the cover of the curtains and danced around the walls. Letting out a humph of disappointment I heaved myself out of bed and swung my legs over my bed. Landing with a resounding thump on the ground, I trudged over to the windows. Sweat dripped down my nightgown as I threw back my heavy tartan curtains and flung open my windows. I sighed at the sweet breeze that caressed my face and combed through my hair.

Hesitantly, I glanced in the mirror and winced at the person who looked back. My golden hair was matted at the nape, it formed an impenetrable wall for my comb. My face was swollen from the lack of sleep, lately my days were like a broken record stuck on repeat. Weariness infiltrated every part of my life and it was beginning to have an affect on my appearance. My deep set eyes began growing bags underneath them and my skin and lips were turning a dull grey. The self-deprecating thoughts eddied out of my mind as the sweet scent of pancakes curled around my nostrils.
I hurled myself down the stairs and flew around the corners of the hall only to pause in the kitchen. My mother was hunched over the stove, one glance at how dishevelled I was had her letting out a light chuckle. I took no heed and stalked over to a short stack of golden pancakes that were murmuring my name. With maple syrup still coating my tongue, I stood from my chair and essentially threw my dish into the sink.

I lay on the floor, each breathe was laboured. My muscles barked with pain at even the lightest of movements. Reluctantly, I hoisted myself up off of the cushioned yoga mat, my muscles groaning in protest. Dragging my sweaty body to the shower, I wondered why I thought that working out was a good idea. The first stream of water silenced my thoughts and I exhaled at the relief in my aching muscles. I shivered and clutched the towel tighter around my armpits. Beads of water from my damp hair left a trail of droplets on the floor as I hobbled to my bedroom. I flung open my wardrobe doors, grabbed my most fashionable pair of grey sweatpants, and a soft cotton hoodie.

Finally dressed and downstairs I plonked onto a chair and glared at the book set in front of me, geography, possibly the most useless subject I had ever studied. My dad shot me a knowing look from the couch. I picked up my pen and warily began my mountain of classwork for the day. Three hours later, I mumbled my need for fresh air, grabbed my coat and ventured outside.

Any moment outside was blissful mercy from the confinement of the indoors. Few people could be seen outside the safety of their homes. People walked with the shoulders curled in on themselves. Few responded to the empty greetings called out to them, others found the ground captivating when walking past somebody. The reek of stale air, sweat and hopelessness clung to their clothes. About nine weeks ago panic slammed into the world in the form of a virus, since then nothing has really been the same. Everybody's hearts were heavy with dread, their lips permanently pressed into tight lines.

Unimpressed by the suffocating depression that slithered even in the outdoors, I found myself bundled in blankets atop my bed. Staring at my ceiling I wondered when this would all be over. I would love for nothing more than to hear my friends knocking on my door, but the virus was a blessing in disguise. This quarantine provided not only myself, but Mother Nature, with some much needed me-time. While the world's inhabitants were hibernating, it was rejuvenating what it lost to us. My thoughts drifted elsewhere as my eyes closed. The stylus on the record player was reset once again...

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