The weight was suffocating him. 

A lockdown was initiated and everything non-essential closed. Nobody wanted this, but it was the only way to slow the spread. 

He looked outside, imagining tiny droplets of the virus floating through the air. A hideous vision mixed with hysteria and depression. A year ago, the neighbourhood was vibrant and colourful; the “hottest new community,” as one lifestyle blog described it. Now, it was shunned as a hotspot, thanks to an ill-advised house party; “deplorable” as one journalist characterized it. 

Many vices were used to fix his pain, but all failed. His torment was untreatable.   

The declaration was haunting.

“I am ending my life today.”

“Don’t say that!” I screamed over the phone. “It’s going to be over soon.” 

“And then what?” my friend asked. “Back to normal? Are we supposed to forget all the stress COVID put us through?

“The pandemic has ruined my life. It will end, but the ground is salted. I’m going outside for one last breath of fresh air.”

I jumped in my car. 

“I’m coming over,” I said. “Begging you to wait. Let’s talk about this.”

“Don’t bother,” my friend warned me. “There’s a heavy presence of authority figures.”

“Please!” I begged the Bylaws Officer. “I need to see my friend. He might harm himself.”

“No,” replied the apathetic officer. “No visits with people outside your household.” 

“You don’t understand,” I explained, tears staining my mask. “He needs help.”

“There’s plenty of resources,” the officer said in a harsh tone. “Withdraw or be fined.” 

The suffering on my friend’s face was evident and I was powerless. I turned to leave when a gunshot echoed through the neighborhood. My friend was lying on the ground; blood poured from his head. 

“Shame,” chimed the officer. “Not my problem though.”

I wept.

“I have something to say!” bellowed the Social Media Warrior. 

“The numbers keep going up because of ungrateful pieces of shit who flood malls and host parties. They are vile! 

“I don’t like masks. I miss my friends and going out. But I am willing to sacrifice because I’m a team player. 

“To those who are selfish: Quit your whining! Wear a mask because it’s not about you!”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbed a baseball bat and smashed everything: The phone, the echo chamber, the soapbox. 

The Social Media Warrior was stunned. 

“Not helping,” I hissed through my mask.

“Wake up!” screamed the Conspiracy Theorist. 

“You are being manipulated by our government and wealthy elites. 

“You’re fed all these statistics and don’t question them. You’re told what to wear and how many metres to stand apart and you accept it. Jesus fucking Christ, open your eyes!

“The coronavirus is not real. You refuse to seek the truth because the scientists said so and God forbid you challenge their research.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Grabbed a baseball bat and smashed everything. The networks, the rhetoric, the stubbornness.

The Conspiracy Theorist was stunned. 

“Not helping,” I hissed through my mask.  

In a darkened alley, three leaders of the mainstream media gathered to celebrate their efforts. Their cologne consisted of expensive alcohol and powerful cigar smoke.

“I have the perfect headline,” one told the others. “‘Lockdown to last until summer as new cases dramatically increase hourly.'”

“Truly sensational!” exclaimed another. 

“Nothing finer than our click-bait!” said the third. “And nothing finer than profitable clicks!” 

Their maniacal laughs were suddenly caught off by bright headlights and a sickening screech of tires. 

They had no time to get out of the way. Killed instantly. Silenced instantly. 

One less article for the “doom scroll.”

“It’s your fault!” shouted the Pro-Mask side. 

“It’s your fault!” the Anti-Maskers replied. 

Two screaming sides separated by the road. 

“Enough!” I yelled through my mask. 

Both sides paused as I stood between them. 

“You can point fingers, but it won’t make a difference,” I announced. “The pandemic is out of our control. All this arguing is hollow and it won’t bring my dead friend back.”

I took off my jacket and showed all the explosives taped to my body.

“Fuck you both,” I said, pressing the detonator. 

There were screams, a loud bang, intense heat, silence and finally, peace.