The winner of the Roscommon Drama Festival 2026 Schools’ Short Story Competition was Makayla Carroll (aged 12), Mount View, Kilnalosset, Strokestown, Co Roscommon, a pupil of Ballagh NS. This is Makayla’s winning entry…
The Enemy of the People
I didn’t understand why I felt so worried at first. Nothing had even happened yet, but the busy world felt quieter, like it was holding its breath. Niamh was vulnerable, and somehow, I already knew things were about to change.
In our caring house, sickness was normal. Niamh had severe asthma and diabetes, so hospital visits were a part of everyday life. Mam cautiously packed inhalers and insulin, just like how other parents packed lunches. Dad tried to stay calm even when worry followed him everywhere. Paddy, our loyal and caring dog, never left Niamh’s side. Neither did I.
Niamh wasn’t just my sister; she was my best friend. We shared a room, secrets and late-night laughs when we were supposed to be asleep. I helped her with her medications, and she consoled me when I felt scared. When her breathing got bad, she squeezed my hand and I squeezed back, pretending I wasn’t afraid.
Outside, our cheery estate was quiet. Streets emptied and neighbours stopped chatting. The news spoke about an illness, but it felt far away, until hospital rules changed. Visits were limited. Doors were closed. Routine disappeared. People were dying minute by minute, second by second.
Niamh tried to be brave. She smiled at me over her blue mask even when her eyes were weary and tired. Mam’s caring and loving voice grew softer, and dad barely spoke. One bright morning, they left for the hospital without me.
I sat on Niamh’s bed surrounded by her precious things, waiting. Paddy waited by the front door all day, waiting stoically for Niamh to return. When the front door finally opened, I dashed downstairs to see Niamh. But she wasn’t there. Mam’s face crumbled. Dad stared in a ghostly manner at the bare floor. I knew then before they declared anything. My best friend wasn’t coming home. The house felt empty in a way I didn’t know was possible. There was no goodbye, no last joke, no final hand squeeze – just silences and a space that stabbed my heart with hurt to look at. Now I know the name of the unseen enemy that took her… Covid.
