A Pandemic and Year Lost--Luke

In the years leading to 2020, I never would have thought about a pandemic. In 2019, I was

learning about a disease called the Spanish Flu. The spread of the virus along with the conditions

brought about by the first World War combined to create the ultimate killer of diseases. 500 million

people were infected, 50 million killed. The numbers on the page seemed a mere statistic, how naive I

was to realize the page had followed me. The first few months before the pandemic had hit the US it

seemed completely distant, combined with the confusion over politics, the danger was completely lost

on me. By May the entire country was on lockdown. A summer of boredom, ultimately emerging into a

new school year. This was the beginning of my largest struggle yet.

As the year began, I had thought nothing of it, for I handled the previous months of the year in

school so this should not be an issue, or so I thought. The first sign of difficulty began immediately, I felt

no connection to the teachers, their endless bounty of knowledge, from my perspective, had never

reached their target. And as everyone understood a subject, I felt lost in the crowd. In a normal school I

would have raised my hand, asked a question and the teacher would explain it. If worse came to worst I

would have stayed after class and they would be delighted to answer my questions. Now, class

dismissed, with no one but Google to find solace in.

I vividly remember the first day I knew that misfortune awaited the remaining year. For a D

grade in the first month was not a good sign. I knew there was an issue, yet no one to turn to. I would

call out to the teachers but somehow, I did not know them. They were a voice, they were a frame-toframe

picture in the same room, same tone, and same microphone quality. They were not real to me

and at that point the only one I knew was myself. And so, I wallowed in my own unsatisfactory

performance waiting for a call from the darkness, I wish I could have just opened the door.

Then the second semester had begun. I, along with my peers, saw an opportunity, a reset. Given

my lackluster grades the first time around I put all my effort in this time. I emailed teachers, asking for

assignments I had missed, I came to most of the live classes, I cared to do the assignments in full. It

created a new result, a C average, while an improvement from the previous semester for sure, it was not

one to be proud of. I felt sunk, caught in a world racing around, and yet in actuality the world was as

bogged down as I was. Hospitals closed down, stories of homes and families destroyed from the invisible

fire. A killer was on the loose in the real-world, so is there a point in what I am doing now. Could I give

up, was there a point, these are the questions I asked myself. But I am not one for depressive idle time,

there was work to be done, and yet it all was stacked on my mind.

The end of the second semester had rolled around and I was given a bleak symbol of hope, the

final. The final, in traditional school, had always been a scary to insubstantial event. Never, I thought,

could I rely on it, but there I was. It was in equal parts scary and inspiring. One test, one chance at

redemption. It was a shot in the dark. Everyday they opened at midnight, usually not a time I would go

to school but I needed to know if I would succeed then and there. I do not know if it was the hype of the

moment or if it was what I had all along but three times I pushed forward til the brink of dawn, three

times hit, an A,B-, and a C+. A victory, no doubt. I stood over the monster, vanquished, with that final

test results screen. I was a different man, I had succeeded, I had earned that summer break.

In the years leading to 2021, I never thought the pandemic could end. Toward the end of 2020, I

was at last finished, as the last final of the year turned up officially as a B. A large wave of relief washed

over me, it was over, was I truly finished. The spread of the virus along with the political chaos of 2020’s

election combined to create an ultimate killer, and yet I survived. 200 million were infected, 5 million

killed. So many could have died yet they hadn’t, they survived. As the vaccine was given thrust into my

arm, I was finally given the strength to leave that cursed page behind, back into the history books and to

leave 2020 with it. I had survived.