She would go to sleep when the sun rose and wake up when it fell. Her days just began to blend together; she had been stuck in this cycle for three months. The only structure of her life was her runs which she started skipping because of a lack of motivation. Her social life had become messages on a screen. Day after day everything felt useless; what really was the point of getting up?
Then it got better. She was able to drive back to the coast, to fall down her rabbit hole. Two weeks in Dad’s apartment was better than three more months stuck in her room. She stayed for weeks, going to the park with her friends, giving them the masks she had sewn in her free time. She got to see her girlfriend for the first time in four months. She was always safe, she took tests, wore masks, and socially distanced. She was excited to get out of bed, to go outside, and to see the people she cared about.
But Alice always has to leave Wonderland. After two months she drove the 18 hours again, back to her room, back to the sludge of days. And then her world got worse than before.
Her mask stayed on every time she went upstairs, to the chairs where her loving grandparents watched the news. Her friends transformed back to their profile pictures and stayed that way. Her world was now stuck in a little glowing box. Her mind stayed locked away in her Wonderland for safekeeping. She started floating through the days, waiting for a chance to go back to whatever form of normal she had.