Trapped Together

Meana closed the door behind her with a gentle tug. She desperately wanted solace she thought as it snapped shut. Meana knew that despite the isolation she wasn’t really ever alone. She knew that better than anyone. Some call it family Meana called it hell. Beyond paper-thin walls was chaos. A disharmony that crawled up her spine spewing hatred in shiverled whispers in her ears. To a 20 year old like Meana, she was trapped, it didn’t matter if it was a quarantine or not. She was stuck either way in this summer heat and like quicksand the more she struggled the more she sank.

Meana sighed as she brushed her fingers against her wooden bed frame one of the few things she owned she thought. Most of the items in this tattered and scattered room didn’t really belong to her. They were gifts to hand me downs and distant memories from a lonely childhood. It's not that her family was bad, Meana thought as her fingers feathered across her sheets. They just… she held a breath staring at the door. They just don’t understand. 

Meana was a child in their eyes. She wasn’t an adult and didn’t deserve more than that. She constantly was lectured and even slapped for things she did. Even when those things were less than petty. Meana tried her best but like her mother, she had a quickfire temper. She also had a gentleness but that didn’t come from anyone she knew. Not even her clever and calm father.

Her father was a very calm man on most occasions. Even if her mother bitched he remained steadfast. He seemed gentle and kind. Yet Meana feared him far more than her mother. He was the kind of man to break you down from the inside out slowly but surely. If you did manage to ignore that then it would just test his patience and an unruly monster would whip out. He always made you feel wrong Meana thought solemnly, the worst part was the false sense of security all the time. She hugged herself at that thought.

Meana frowned and combed her bed for the friend she had left behind moments before. What she found was a soft squishy thing. Her frown wavered a little bit as she pulled it towards her chest. Meana squeezed the fluffy thing and hugged it tightly. Softly, she stuffed her face into the stuffed dog for a moment. Meana loved the promise held within its fabric. It gave her a sense of peace and slight relief. Despite the trauma and strain in her life she knew she had a future.

She lifted her head tiredly and stopped as her eyes flickered over to her monitor. The screen was lit up with a bright florence that beckoned her forward. Meana’s subtle frown turned quickly into an upward grin as she ran over and dodged her furniture to its call. She launched herself down in her swervy chair stuffed friend at hand. Upon impact her chair curved towards the left with a groan but that didn’t sway her giddiness. Meana stared at the screen bewitched, her eyes scanned and searched endlessly at the text.

To most, Meana knew that a simple text wasn’t that important but to Meana it meant the world. It made her gut feel like jelly. It made her so pleased and happy in such a little amount of time that it caused her to forget her worries beforehand. It made her forget about her loneliness and cold parents. Forget all the insecurities and the lifelong battle against confidence. It made everything else become distant in that singular moment and Meana wanted more of it.

Meana furiously clicked at the keys on her keyboard after she beheld the message like a trophy. She wrote her heart out to this messenger. Each key click was pressed with thoughtful compassion. No word written was placed without reason or thought. Meana made sure of that. In the back of her mind, she always thought that she was not good enough no matter what message she would send. Though Meana remembered the gentle reminders of previous encounters. How this reader would never frown upon her. Meana smiled a toothy grin as she pressed send. 

That excitement quickly grew into desperation as she waited impatiently for her next response. Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest and a light sweat beaded on her forehead. Despite the time she knew he would be here. Why wouldn’t he? she thought. Meana bit her nails nervously for a time. She thought about how much she missed him and needed him. How much she wanted to tell him a story that he would hungrily gobble up. He loved her stories, so much he would just sit silently waiting till she finished the tale before putting his own input. He was always so patient and kind, even when she too lost her temper. He would always listen, always.

She wanted to tell him about her day. How she ran into someone at work who was rowdy, how she found a lucky penny, she even wanted to tell him about her family. It didn’t matter to her, he was Meana’s best friend. He knew everything about her and she returned with similar knowledge about him. She smiled gleefully at that screen. Knowing now without a doubt he would show. He would respond to her she thought. He had never let her down, he always been loyal to her. He was always there and he always tried his best despite his shortcomings. Then it happened he finally appeared. Meana’s heart raced.

She held a breath as she stared at the words that danced in her vision. Meana felt alive again like every dark thought was washed away. She felt a mixture of relief and joy and was so lost in her excitement that she forgot all about the message before her. Meana focused back onto the messenger brought on by cupid himself it seemed. Then at the stroke of midnight, the words spoke.

“Good morning my love,” 

Conner. 

Quarantine really did mean nothing to her. What did it matter if she was trapped or not? Either way, she was always trapped with the one thing that brought her joy, and he was stuck in a monitor most days.