By: Hannah Zhang

I lay in bed in the quarantine hotel, staring blankly at the ceiling. I hated staying in the tiny room, and I couldn’t wait until the fortnight was over. It was suffocating not being able to go outside. Looking out the window was no help; all it did was make me yearn to go out more. They weren’t even capable of opening completely. But every time that I felt the warm summer wind in the drabby room, it was as if the wind lit a fire inside the room, forcing me to continue this 14-day journey in isolation.

The first day was a breeze. I felt like I could stay in the room forever. It was peaceful being alone. I didn’t miss one bit of the outside world. Oh, it felt like heaven to stay in the air conditioner all day long. Compared to the blazing summer sun outside, I’d rather stay in this room forever. The second day was even more enjoyable. It was incredible, not going to school. I spent most of my day under the blankets, not even bothering to adjust to the time difference. I sighed as I lay in bed, sniffing the air-conditioner air. Once, I hugged my iPad so tight the cover broke. Welp, I guess I can get a new one. On the occasions when I did sit up a bit, I was reading romance comics on Webtoon. Life could not have gotten better, I had thought. The third and fourth days blended together harmoniously, passing exactly like the second day, full of sweet memories under the covers. The quarantine had suited my introverted self like icing on the cake, it was the best quiet time I ever had. I didn’t think that I would ever get tired of staying in the room.

The fifth day, however, took a surprising turn. That day, as I woke up, I felt strangely suffocated. I had a desire to break free of the restraints of the hotel, to go out and see the world again. I wanted to breathe fresh oxygen. I wanted to touch the grass. But, all I could do was wait it out. Suddenly, I couldn’t understand why I had enjoyed the past few days so much. I felt restless, and I paced around the room often. It was becoming more like a prison to me.

The rest of the week and the start of the next were sad but uneventful. I spent my time moping on the couch (which was harder than a rock, unlike the bed), trying to force myself to cry because it seemed like good entertainment. If I thought about it seriously, I might have thought that I was going crazy; not that I could. I would often storm around the room pretending to be Incredible Hulk. Sometimes I felt so overwhelmed that I would put my ear to the carpet after stomping on it, just to catch even a tiny groan of annoyance from the person downstairs.

To an outsider, everything I did would be considered delusional. Especially this one. Throughout my time in these gloomy days, I had started trying to worry about the water supply, of all things. This went on for quite a while. Every night, I would force myself to feel desperation at the lack of water, screaming in agony at how much people would waste the precious water. The funny thing is, once I stopped enforcing the feelings on myself, I felt as if I always would. That’s going crazy if you ever needed to know. It made sense, as not only was I dealing with loneliness and going insane, but I was also experiencing forced anxiety over something that was out of my control. To top it all off, I was worrying about this as someone who was terribly afraid of public speaking and couldn’t persuade someone to save my life. Ironic, isn’t it?

As the last days of my quarantine drew near, I truly started going insane. I don’t remember much from it, for some feelings are fleeting and are only remembered as you experience it. I was screaming every morning at my own will, and I even started chewing on the blanket covers. The window had never looked so appealing to jump through.

The last few minutes of my quarantine were even more torturous. My dad had accidentally left just a little too late and I was stuck waiting inside the room for another hour. I recall pounding on the window in desperation as I paced around the room. By then, I was bursting with energy and all I wanted to do was to get out of that room. I had preorganized all my clothes the day before. That was how much I anticipated the leave.

Soon, my dad arrived and I hopped in the car joyfully, yelling at my dad for arriving too late. If I learned anything from this quarantine, it was that I never EVER wanted to go to jail.