Chapter 2: The Lockdown

Days turned into a surreal blur, each one blending into the next as the world grappled with the unfathomable phenomenon. The streets grew quieter, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by an eerie calm. The news broadcasts were a constant stream of updates and analyses, painting a picture of a world teetering on the brink of the unknown.

Unnerving as it was, the phenomenon brought about a peculiar sense of unity among people. Strangers exchanged glances, conversations sparked more easily, all of us bound together by the shared weight of an extraordinary reality. But amidst this unity, I couldn't ignore the heaviness that lingered within me.

One morning, as I stood by my window, my gaze fixed on the strange planet that loomed above, I realized something was off. A heaviness settled upon my chest, a weight that made each breath a conscious effort. I pressed a hand to my sternum, as if that might ease the sensation.

The TV was on in the background, its constant drone a backdrop to my thoughts. News anchors spoke in hushed tones, their expressions serious as they relayed updates about the phenomenon. I tried to focus, but the words seemed to blend together, meaningless in the face of this inexplicable occurrence.

"Reports continue to pour in from around the world," one anchor was saying, their tone laden with concern. "Governments are urging citizens to remain indoors, as more portals appear in the sky."

The screen shifted to a live feed of a major city, its streets deserted save for a few figures darting from building to building. The atmosphere was one of desolation, an eerie emptiness that seemed to swallow the world.

And then, as if to shatter the solemnity of the moment, the tone changed. The anchor's voice shifted from gravity to a strange sense of awe.

"… And now, in unrelated news, the First Lady of the house attended an event last night wearing a stunning crimson gown," the anchor gushed. The camera cut to images of a regal figure, her dress a swirl of rich fabric that seemed to defy description. I shook my head in disbelief, the incongruity of it all jarring against the backdrop of the phenomenon.

I sighed and turned away from the window, my attention drawn to my buzzing phone. It was Dr. Terrence Yale, my primary care physician. His name on the screen brought a mix of comfort and apprehension. I answered the call, my voice wavering with a mixture of unease and curiosity.

"Hello, Dr. Yale."

"Emma," his voice came through, calm and reassuring. "I've been hearing about the symptoms you mentioned. How have you been feeling?"

I leaned against the wall, my fingers tracing a pattern on the wallpaper. "It's hard to describe. Like there's a weight on my chest, and sometimes it feels like I can't catch my breath."

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end of the line. "Given the circumstances, it might be anxiety related to the phenomenon," Dr. Yale said. "I can prescribe you something to help manage the symptoms. It's nothing to be worried about."

I closed my eyes, a mix of relief and frustration washing over me. Anxiety—I hadn't even considered that possibility. It made sense, given the state of the world, but it was a reminder that even the strongest among us could be affected by the uncertainty.

"Thank you, Dr. Yale," I said, my voice soft. "I'll pick up the prescription today."

"Good," he replied. "Remember, Emma, it's important to take care of your mental health during times like these."

As I ended the call, I let out a long breath. Dr. Yale's words were a reminder that the phenomenon wasn't just rewriting the laws of science—it was also reshaping our collective psyche.

I glanced at the TV, the news anchors still talking in the background. Portals in the sky, a mysterious planet, and now a newfound heaviness within me—it was a perfect storm of uncertainty, a whirlwind that had swept us all into its embrace.