The Wilsons’ apartment was nothing to write home about. It certainly wasn’t built for 3 people, and so changes had to be made. What was once a storage closet had become a tiny bedroom for the youngest of the three; Harry. There was just enough space for his bed, which he had since he was 10. His desk stood against the wall, preventing his door from opening all the way. The bed would grind and scratch the wallpaper whenever he used it and, now well into his teenage years, was starting to feel too small. His step-father, Martin, was the lucky one to have the original bedroom. Plenty of space, a double bed, with a wardrobe. Harry always wished he had his room. However, the boy boiled with envy at the thought of his older brother’s abode. Living room by day, Matthew’s room by night. The sofa effortlessly transformed into a spacious, soft mattress. That and the new TV dad bought last October made Matthew’s room easily the best one. Of course, Harry rarely set foot in there. He only snuck in when his brother was out, mainly to play the family Xbox.
On that fateful Friday evening, Harry was in the kitchen. He sat in a small chair, leaning over his homework on a small table. Kitchen utensils dangled hazardously above him. He adjusted his glasses, trying to focus over the sound of loud, muffled music coming from Matthew’s room.
“‘Evenin’.”
Martin emerged from his bedroom, donning a loose button-up shirt and black chinos, shrouding his portly frame. He tightened his belt.
“How do I look?”
“You look great.”
“How’s my hair?”
He smiled as he pointed to his bald head. Harry let out a light chuckle.
“Amazing as always.”
“Good. What’re you working on?”
“Maths.”
“Oh?”
He leaned over his son’s shoulder, squinting at the equations.
“All gibberish to me. Got any plans for tonight?”
“Not really. It’ll just be nice having the place to myself.”
“You know you can bring a girl here if you want-“
“When’s your date?
“7:55.”
Harry looked up from his work.
“That’s a weirdly specific time.”
“Well, it’s actually at 8 but I wanna get there 5 minutes early. Let’s hope Rachel doesn’t get there even earlier.”
Martin smiled as he straightened his sleeves. The music in the other room had changed into something even louder, somehow. Harry sighed as his dad sat next to him.
“We gotta soundproof that room.”
“It’s even louder in my room. I can barely do anything when he’s in there all day.”
“Well, I’ll talk to him. He’s probably just a bit anxious about his-“
“WHAT?!?”
The pair heard a tremendous shout coming from the living room as the music stopped abruptly. After a few seconds, the music stopped, and the door swung open. Matthew stood in the doorway, in a stylish denim jacket and skinny jeans. His short hair rested perfectly on his handsome face, which was scowling with anger. Martin’s eyes widened as he saw his older son storm into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?”
“LOOK AT THE TV.”
Cautiously, Harry followed his father into the living room. The smell of deodorant hit them like a brick wall. The sofa-bed was unmade, and Matthew’s used clothes were sprawled all over the floor. His gym bag leant against his speakers. One of the news channels was on the TV, with a headline in large, bold letters:
NATIONAL QUARANTINE ENFORCED
Harry reached for the remote and turned the volume up. The news reporter read with the typical deadpan tone.
“The Government has called for a national quarantine to be enforced immediately, advising all residents to stay indoors. The Prime Minister has specified that you must not leave your homes for any reason, as you could receive a fine of up to £50,000. Whilst the duration of the quarantine is unknown, we may gather, from how easily transmissible this unknown virus is, it may take months before the quarantine is eased…”
Matthew grabbed the remote from Harry and turned the TV off. His clenched fist was shaking.
“£50,000?! This is BULLSHIT! They’re not even telling us what the virus does, and they expect us to put our lives on hold?! I was gonna spend the night with Caitlyn, the first time in WEEKS! And now I gotta cancel? BULLSHIT!”
Grabbing his phone he stormed out of his room. Harry almost jumped as he heard the bathroom door slam shut. Martin rubbed his eyes and sighed.
“Guess I’ll cancel my date too.”
“What do we do now?”
“No clue. Of all days…”
Martin slowly meandered back to his room, leaving Harry on his own. He schlumped onto his brother’s bed, turning the TV back on and flicking through the channels. He was about the boot up the old family Xbox when-
“What are you doing?”
He turned to see Matthew by the door, frowning.
“I thought we could play a game or-“
“Not in the mood, get out.”
“C’mon, I don’t get to use it much-“
“I said GET OUT!”
Matthew reached for his brother, and lifted him up to his feet. Harry knew the 19-year old was much stronger than him. Taller too, his head only reaching as high as Matthew’s broad shoulders. With his head down, Harry shuffled to the kitchen, hearing the door slam behind him. He made his way to his bedroom. He shoved his door open, pushing the desk that rested against it. He collapsed on his bed, staring at the peeling paint on the ceiling. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone, and began texting one of his friends, Zach.
“Looks like we’re gonna have to wait a few more weeks.”
Just a few seconds later, his phone buzzed, and Zach messaged back.
“If I have to wait years I will xx”
As he read those words, the music returned, blasting through the walls of the apartment.
This was gonna be a long quarantine.