2nd Place – A Deadly Dream

by Alexis Beeler, 04/09/2020, Traverse City, MI

Middle School 6-8 Category


The soft clink of the ceramic onto the glass gave way to the peaceful surroundings of a Monday morning. The sun peaking through the trees, dying the dark sky with oranges and reds. It seemed that it was the only aspect of the day I could grasp. I could rely on the sun rising, showering warmth onto the Earth. Yet all other seemingly average elements of my life were uncertain. A cool breeze brushed upon me and my fingers instinctively intertwined into the fluffy yarn, pulling the fabric over my shoulders. I nuzzled my head into the blanket, allowing a sigh to invade the frigid air. I wasn’t sure what to occupy my brain with. A brain once a hub of frenzy and thought, now a blank canvas. What was I to think, to predict, to hold on to? All I could fill my head with was the mass scale of infected, sick people. The world, a capsule of a life threatening virus. One that may spare the lives of young, healthy bodies but deteriorate those of feeble states. One that spreads with every passing hour and as fast as the wind. Despite all the warnings and selflessness, selfishness and stupidity still wore the black cloak and held the scythe. I could remember the day we learned we were not going back to school. Truth be told it was a joyous moment: not having to wake up to the screeching alarm, getting to do whatever I wanted while texting my friends with plans, then backtracking with shame. It was immature to think this was a vacation. If there was a line of reaction, the left being panic and the right being disbelief, I was close to the right. This was not because of ignorance but of childishness. There needed to be balance and harmony at the middle of the scale. A quick jolt by my stomach brought me back to my surroundings. I shuffled around to find my phone advertising another news alert. “It is all you get these days,” I thought. Regardless, I knew I should be thankful for technology in the midst of a pandemic, as you may be stuck in your house but you could at least entertain yourself. I returned my phone back to my pocket. Then eagerly allowed my cold fingers to return themselves to the hot mug in front of me. Wrapping my hand around the base and pulling it close. I shifted my gaze back to staring into the unknown, feeling as if it all was an odd dream. A dream floating vaguely between reality and illusion. A dream nevertheless, that would soon go down in history.