Tricia is sixteen, from Goa, India. She wrote this story as a tribute to loved ones she has lost due to the pandemic.
She pries on us all, and strikes while unnoticed. I do not know her, yet I loathe her. She steals from me what I love most– my family, my friends. Now I’m alone.
Sometimes we know she’s coming. She lingers about mockingly.
Other times, she take us by surprise, never letting go.
We conspire, plotting and scheming, yet to no consequence, while we all fall prey to her. Her cold hands and her cold heart, chilling voice and eerie laugh, all these drive us to places we never knew even existed. She takes all and spares none.
She is death.