On Jan. 24, Harker Aquila ran its first story on the coronavirus outbreak, reporting 1,287 worldwide cases. Over the next month and a half, we watched — and continued reporting — as the virus traveled around the world, creeping closer and closer to home in what felt like a hyperreal sci-fi movie. 

It still seemed distant, but we took precautions as the headlines morphed around us. Teachers began sanitizing their classrooms daily. The annual Synopsys science fair moved online. The cafeteria limited self-serve options.

Then, two weeks ago, everything turned upside down. 

On March 12, as seventh period wound down, the announcement finally arrived: the relative of a staff member had tested positive for COVID-19. We found out that school would be canceled the following day (a Friday), that the campus would be closed to students and that we would be learning remotely until at least spring break. 

A flurry of confused emotions followed, ranging from anxiety to mild enthusiasm. For most of us, those varying initial reactions have since transformed into genuine fear, both of the virus and the unprecedented uncertainty that it has created. 

We’re on the wrong side of the movie screen now, and we’re scared. 

Fear is natural in such uncertain times. The worldwide case count has ballooned to nearly 600,000, with 574 of those within Santa Clara County itself. California, the fifth-largest economy in the world, has come to a grinding halt with Gov. Newsom’s shelter-in-place directive. 

We want someone to tell us that it’s all going to be over soon, that in six weeks, the world will, at the snap of a finger, return to normalcy — but it won’t. 

Concrete pillars that we’ve always leaned on are flexing. SATs and APs, the once-inevitable, immovable banes of our existence are cowering, either being canceled entirely or moving online. Professional sports leagues, such as the NBA and MLB, have postponed their seasons. Our teachers are lecturing over Zoom. For many of us, our parents are now at home all the time, worried about their jobs and businesses. 

People we care about — friends, teachers, neighbors — seem a lot further than just six feet away. COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on the world, and we can’t help but wonder: will it hit someone I love? 

So, we have to be brave in our own ways. Bravery is waking up every day, getting dressed and attending classes on Zoom. Bravery is staying home, FaceTiming friends and helping save lives by flattening the curve. Although simple, this is the everyday bravery we need.