The moon ran silently along the calm ocean, tracing a path through the pitch black abyss towards a lone ship, gently bobbing. Upon the ship stood a sailor, a tall man with auburn hair and a hooked scar tracing a path from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. A gentle breeze blew upon him, a few strands of his weathered hair danced across his face, tickling him gently with their touch. He breathed deeply, taking in the salty musk that he knew all too well. A life spent on the sea, yet each day seemed the same. As he stared transfixed upon the moon, the peaceful water beneath him broke silently, revealing a young woman's head, her hair fell in rivers of messy black waves; the black sea connected with the girl's hair, seemingly blending together as if the ocean and her were one. Gently she drifted toward the ship, her cold green eyes fixed upon the man, who was still oblivious to the sudden movement beneath him.

Lifting herself from the depths of the sea, the mysterious woman grabbed hold of the boat above her, digging her sharp nails into the side of the ship, black tendrils of hair covering grey scales, that moved from speckled coverage at her chest to form an opaque deep green tail at the bottom.

The man remained standing still under the gentle glow of the moon, his daze only being broken by the quiet yet persistent scratching sound that had emerged beneath him. Looking down he saw two glowing eyes from the darkness, mere slits of emerald in the centre of the dark abyss, and a scaly hand swiping swiftly across his feet, sending him crashing to the floor with a loud and painful thud. Before he could process the fear, she sunk her claws into his leg and dragged him into the black ocean after her. Twirling and tumbling down, they sank with considerable speed, the man grasping and thrashing against the immense strength of the woman; grabbing helplessly at the water above him, each soundless scream erupting a stream of bubbles that leisurely floated above him, taking their time to break to the silent surface of the sea. His lungs burnt from the salt water that was now flooding into them, and eventually he lost the energy to fight back. He looked back one last time at the distorted image of the moon from the floor of the ocean where he was trapped, his vision clouding till finally there was nothing but darkness.

The ocean above lay still and empty. Waves slowly sloshed against the side of the ship. An eerie quiet held within the air.

The lightning struck me while I was walking home from work. I never thought lightning could actually strike people. I thought it was just a trope seen on television and movies. But there I was, lying sprawled on the side of the road, steam rising from my body. It didn't kill me, as I had expected lightning would, but rather knocked me out for a while. My life had been in a rut as of recently, so I had prayed for something to restart it. This was not what I had in mind.

I awoke, at what must have been a few hours later, as the sun had begun to set. My eyes shot open and, groaning, I surged forward, a true frankensteinian creature. It all would’ve looked surreal to passers by. If there were any. I had the unfortunate luck of being hit by lightning on a deserted street. I guess being hit by lightning itself was also unfortunate. I eventually decided that I would probably need to go to hospital. And it was on the way that I saw her.

She was small and young, probably around 16, and she was wearing a light floral summer dress that was drenched in dark blood. She stood at the foot of a grand oak tree, and was looking up at a squirrel perched within its branches, seemingly unbothered by her unusual appearance. I approached cautiously, unsure of whose blood she was covered in.

“Excuse me...are you alright?” I asked timidly. She lowered her head but wouldn't turn to look at me, “...miss?” I reached out and tapped her shoulder but got a shockingly cold current run up my arm, forcing me to jump back abruptly. I swore at the pain of the electricity dancing in my fingertips and looked up to find her staring at me. It wasn’t fear in her eyes, but curiosity. She had a long almond shaped face and petit features, with fierce golden eyes that had white lightning strikes exploding from the iris’, her hair was a smooth deep brown that ran in perfect rivers down past her shoulders and bruises that matched perfectly on each forearm. Her neck had a long cut across the base and a mess of dried blackened blood all down her front. I couldn’t believe that she had survived whatever had happened to her. I heard an engine noise in the distance and turned to see a car approaching us, I waved my arms, flagging down the attention of the driver, who slowed down and looked straight at me with a concerned expression. He was an elderly gentleman with a short salt and pepper beard and kind eyes.

“Ya’ll right there lil’ lady?” he drawled, in his southern accent, only addressing me. Bemused I responded

“Yes I am but i’m not sure what has happened” I responded rather bemused, gesturing towards the girl standing two feet to my left, drenched in blood. The man in the truck looked to the tree for a bit and then back at myself.

“What happ’nd with what?” he asked before leaning out of his truck again to look around further. I realised that he couldn't see the girl. The shock hit me like a punch in the stomach. But I pulled myself together and thought it best to not mention that I was seeing things, unless I wanted to get locked in an institution.

“Nevermind...it doesn’t matter”, waving him off, “sorry for bothering you!” I added lightly.

“No bother, just glad you’re ok. You have a nice day now ma’am” he chuckled to himself. He then began to drive away, his country music blasting as he went. I turned once again to the girl.

“Why couldn’t he see you?” I asked sceptically.

“I think the question should be: why can you see me?” she replied, her voice rough and cracked. She smiled humorlessly and stepped closer to me. I reached out and touched her again, and was met by the same sharp, cold, shock that had accompanied contact with her before. She looked down where I touched her and then back at myself with an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry...I just had to check that you were actually there. You are actually there right?” I feared that the lightning had frazzled my brain, fried it a bit too far.

“Yes and no. See….I’m dead.” she gave little jazz hands along with her revelation and then waited patiently, her face fixed on mine, scanning for a reaction. A bubble rose within my throat and burst out as a monumental laugh that was both unexpected and uncontainable. Once it was out I could seemingly no longer suppress it and I stood bent over laughing maniacally for a few minutes before it began to subside.

“Sorry, I am not laughing at you I promise..it’s just...it’s just that that is ridiculous,” I gasped, flummoxed by the very thought of her being dead yet standing very much alive in front of me.

“Ridiculous might not be the word that I would choose..perhaps shitty, or unfair, or a level of bullshit fuckery unbeknownst to the world?” She grew angrier the more she talked and the slit in her throat seeped when she raised her raspy voice.

“What happened?” I burst out, unable to hold my curiosity any longer.

“It was my dad. I came home one summer evening and went to my room. Then in the middle of the night he crept into my room, slit my throat, and blamed it on an intruder. The police believed his story and he got away with it.” She looked down at her feet blinking tears furiously from her eyes.

“But why? Why would a father do that to his own daughter?” I couldn’t comprehend the very idea of it.

“Because I was the only one who knew his deepest, darkest secret. And now you’re going to help me bring it to the light”. She announced mischievously, looking back up to myself, her eyes glinting with malice.

Look at any post-apocalyptic media, and you will see one shared theme – survival by any means necessary. A war between ourselves. A survival of the fittest. A world, where every man looks out only for himself. But that was not what I saw during the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic. I saw neighbours band together and help one another, whether with shopping or even loneliness. I saw a whole world band together and keep each other entertained and happy; money fundraisers, gifts, and applause for key workers. I saw a unity, a harmony, a community. I saw fear and panic become slowly overwhelmed by positivity and laughter, and a hope that the future will be better because of the sacrifice of the quarantine. A hope for the day we would be allowed out of Quarantine. And that day was yesterday.

What I saw upon leaving quarantine was a world heaving with happy faces and joyous laughter. Friends meeting, in person for the first time, after months of being separated. I saw families embrace safely and celebrate birthdays been and gone. I saw couples who had sparked a romance over online dating apps meet for the first time face to face. The shops and restaurants were slightly messy, from being left derelict for months, but not one single person cared about the mess, or about the long wait times for food and drinks, or about the bustling noise encapsulating the room. For once we all had a mountain of patience and understanding; for once we truly understood what a privilege it is to see those we love and the pure joy of being outside amongst the huddled masses. People were squeezing onto benches to allow more patrons to enter; neighbour squished by neighbour, strangers turning to friends. It was quite a sight, and one so alien to me. How could only 2 months change our inpatient, rude, self-entitled society so much? It seemed that all it took for our society to turn into a community was a deadly virus and a national pandemic. And now that we have safely navigated our way through, we were better, stronger, and happier than before. We were free.