What Happened Yesterday

March 14, 2020

I know I haven’t written in this for a while. Hell, the last entry was dated back at New Years'. So much for my resolution of actively trying to journal. Something happened yesterday at the store, and I’m still pretty shaken up. I can’t get them out of my head. I can’t -

I need to write this down. I need to get it out. 

I don’t know who exactly is going to be reading this. I don’t know whether or not it’s me in ten years, my kin from future generations, or quite possibly a stranger who happened to steal my journal. I don’t know who you are, or whether or not you care about my present reality, but I need you to read this. Lately, these days have been full of hysteria and panic, and it’s all because of that damned virus. I won’t explain, because you probably already know from what you’ve read on the internet and such. Hell, we’ve probably read the same articles and watched the same videos. 

Yesterday was the first time I went out in two weeks. I pay attention. I know what’s happening in the world. I know about all of the fights that happened in stores. I know about all of the shortages, empty aisles, and lines at stores.  I see it all over the news and on social media. It’s hard to ignore, but what I must confess is that I never believed it would happen in my own town. The internet is always screwing things up, and the news only reports the most dramatic events. Where are those events? In big cities! In other countries! Basically anywhere but in my town. Dramatic stories never happen in my town. 

Boy was I wrong.

It’s been recommended to the public to wear facial coverings. I played the good citizen and did the best I could do with my bandana. Where I failed was that I should have put it on the moment I went outside. Now, don’t get too excited. I wasn’t coughed on or anything… But it was her eyes. 

My apartment complex has always been the lively sort, so to see no one outside was a shock. No matter, they must be following the guidelines, I thought. That was until I saw little Miss Shauna playing in the hallway. 

Imagine this, reader: Five-year-old Shauna playing dolls in the hallway like she usually does. Her voice echoing through the hallway because she was voicing out the lives of her toys. It was a sight that I was used to (during the rare times I went outside), but what I didn’t expect was the mask that almost covered her face entirely. Just as I was about to say hi, her Mom screamed at her to get back inside. You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I ask you to picture Mrs. Rocker’s face at the sight of me. She took one look at me - maskless - and gasped aloud, only to rush to her pockets to put on a mask too. 

She asked me questions, and like any good neighbor, I answered back. I could care less about the words I said to her. I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. Narrow. Sharp. Judging. Critical. Despite asking me how I’ve been doing, it was her eyes that demanded me to put on a mask too. It was her eyes that plead with God that I didn’t infect her child because I had no protection. As she spoke, I grabbed my own personal ‘mask’ - really, it was just a bandana - and put it on. I can’t describe the relief in her face. It’s like she felt safer to be around me with the mask on like she was waiting for me to put it on. I’ve known the Rocker family for years, but not once have I ever seen her make that face at me. Nor do I ever want to feel the way that she made me ever again. 

I don’t know how my neighborhood will be in the future, but you gotta know that the streets are filled with life. They’re filled with the sounds of street musicians playing their souls out to the world. They’re filled with the grumblings of elderly men as they play board games. They’re filled with the chatter of women discussing how troublesome their kids are. They’re filled with the laughter of children who believe that they’re invincible. 

I’ve never seen the streets so empty. The colored chalk that breathed live into the streets has been washed away from rain and neglect. How long has it been since the kids recolored the sidewalks? It’s just been a few days, right?

The store was even worse. Not only was there a line outstretched around the corner of the building, but almost all of the other people were wearing masks. The whole scene looked like the beginnings of a post-apocalyptic movie. I don’t know what was more shocking: the fact that no one looked surprised or the fact that this is reality.

The wait wasn’t too bad, I suppose. Sure, I was lucky to have brought earphones so I had some music to listen to, but it wasn’t enough. Despite being six-ish feet from another person, I could hear many of the conversations from the others. I could hear the voices of parents telling each other how they made their own masks. I could hear the murmurs of the men comparing the latest numbers of reported positive cases from each of the states. I could hear the shouts of workers as they gave us notifications about what was out of stock. I noticed three things while I was in line: There were no elderly, there were no children, and as I progressed further into the line, the line only seemed to get longer as desperation grew. 

It took me three hours and fifty-six minutes to get inside.

The first step I took made me realize that I am just one of the maybe two hundred people who made it inside. The difference between me and the people at the back of the line is that I only arrived a few hours earlier. We’re both desperate to get the same items, and yet here I am. I hope they make it in before the store closes. 

I wanted to make my shopping as short as possible. Although the store workers didn’t give us a time limit, no one could forget about the hundred people outside who have to patiently wait in a line as the clock draws near towards the store’s closing time. How can you forget? After all, everyone in the store had to wait in the same line for a few hours too. The only reason why a person would take their time in the store while fully knowing about the people outside is that they didn’t care. 

The store was different from the last time I came. Not only is there fewer people, but there’s signs everywhere about product limits. Many of the aisles were empty… so my shopping was made rather short, but just as I was about to leave, I heard a ruckus. I don’t know much about what was happening, but from what I heard it was about some guy claiming to have seen packs of water bottles in the stock room and was angry that the store owners would be selling it the next day rather than now. Like everyone else there, I was too drawn into the situation to care about anything else. While people focused on the words that were being exchanged, I couldn’t help but notice the eyes of the man. His face, like everyone else's’ was mainly covered up. I could only see his eyes. The eyes alone could show the frustration and rage of a man, a father I later learned, who wanted water bottles for his family. His eyes shot spears of fury into the serious eyes of the manager, and into the fearful eyes of the worker behind him. 

This man turned to us and tried the unthinkable - he tried to rally us with him and against the store. He pleaded with us to rush in and take what we needed because, “Why would we wait in another three-hour line tomorrow when we could buy what we needed now?” Most of the crowd stayed where they were, but a few people did step forward and tried to push through. However, everyone and I mean everyone, was immersed in what was happening too. Even those who didn’t dare to try and take what they wanted still dared to slowly push forward, yelling out their frustrations and cries for what they wanted. In the eyes of these people, all I could see was misconstrued desire and misdirected paranoia. Did anyone really need another pack of water? No, but they were worried about the day when there wouldn’t be anything left. Would that day ever come? Likely not, but that didn’t stop people from buying as much as they want without any regard to the people outside. 

I would have joined in the yelling too, if it wasn’t for a stranger. Across the crowd, my eyes managed to catch the gaze of another, whose eyes seemed to reflect mine. Don’t ask how I was able to see their eyes despite the distance. To tell you the truth, I don’t know. What I do know is that the person’s eyes must’ve been feeling the same emotions as me, because I have never felt more at ease than when they held that gaze. It’s that stare that’s kept me up. It’s that stare that has brought me relief and anxiety for these last few hours. 

I can’t get them out of my mind. 

I wish I could. 

I wish I could sleep.

As the crowd was beginning to escalate, security started coming to the scene to break it down. Five security men separated the men who were trying to force their way inside, and they placed themselves between the stock room doors and the public. In their deep voices, they started shouting that everyone should be going back to their own shopping and move on. I don't want to describe the whole scene anymore, but let me tell you that I would have never expected something like that to happen right in front of me. If I wasn’t there, I would have believed that a crowd like that must’ve been happening in another city. 

As I tried to get away, I made the mistake of looking directly at one of the security men directly. Here’s the thing about authority, many of them wear glasses. You don’t see their eyes often.  I never thought about it much, but it just occurred to me how unfair that is. They get to stare into the eyes of the people without having their eyes being seen back. It’s in the man’s glasses that I saw my own fear, and I couldn’t feel anything back from him. Was he just as scared as me? Did he care? 

I didn’t finish my shopping. I paid for what I had and left. I wanted to be as far away from the eyes of the stranger, the glasses of the security men, and from the yells of the men shouting their demands. I can’t erase yesterday’s events from my mind. God, I want to forget it.

I guess what unsettles me most is that this is reality. This happened, and I can’t change that. Will a day like yesterday happen soon? Will a day like yesterday happen again, only next time it’ll be worse? How many times will it happen? How long will it continue to-

I have to stop. Writing all this down didn’t help I thought it did. I thought maybe I could exhaust the thoughts that have been running through my mind for the past few hours and lay them to rest. I don’t know what else to do, reader. 

Maybe drinking some NyQuil will help. Wait, that was something I was supposed to buy…

Damn it.