𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚏

𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴 | 𝚂𝙲𝙷𝙾𝙾𝙻

Let's address a point of contention: Lexie believed the dictionary's definition of the word "school" is somewhat misleading. According to the dictionary, school is defined as: An institution for educating children.

She must respectfully disagree. A more accurate definition might be: An institution where children endure immense pressure and anxiety, often at the cost of their mental well-being.

Regrettably, attending school is not optional for her. Despite the illusion of freedom in their choices, this is one area where she has no say.

As she was mentioning before digressing, she had to go to school. However, her reluctance was palpable. Unfortunately, she had no choice in the matter, and her morning began with a rather irritable Derek insisting that if she didn't get up, he would drag her out of bed.

Whatever that threat entailed, she decided not to test its validity. The prospect of being forcibly removed from her bed was not an ideal way to start the day, even if it might have been the most eventful part of it. So, with a resigned sigh, she got up, ready to face another day of school.

Lexie sits at the kitchen table, her shoulders slumped and her eyes downcast. Her hair, usually neatly tied back, is slightly disheveled, reflecting her reluctance to face the day. She wears a plain, blue dress that feels too formal for her liking, adding to her discomfort.

In front of her is a bowl of cereal, but she barely touches it, stirring the flakes absentmindedly with her spoon. The milk has started to turn the cereal soggy, but she doesn't seem to notice. A glass of orange juice sits untouched beside her, the condensation forming a small puddle on the table.

Her older brother, Derek, stands by the counter, watching her with a concerned expression. He's dressed in casual clothes, ready to drop her off at school before heading to work. He tries to engage her in conversation, but she responds with monosyllabic answers, her voice barely above a whisper.

Isaac sits across from her, his usual cheerful demeanor subdued. He's dressed in his usual grey shirt and jeans, ready for another day at high school. He tries to lighten the mood with a joke, but it falls flat, and the girl's frown deepens.

The radio, which normally plays softly in the background, is turned off, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Derek places a gentle hand on his sister's shoulder. "It's going to be okay," he says, the softly spoken words surprising Isaac. "It's not that tragic."

The girl nods slightly, but her eyes remain fixed on her cereal. The first day of school looms ahead, and despite her brother's comforting words, the anxiety and sadness weigh heavily on her small frame.

°°°°

Derek pulled up in front of the bustling elementary school, the car coming to a smooth stop amidst the throng of children and parents. The schoolyard was alive with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional shout, a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside the car.

Lexie turned to Derek, her eyes wide with a mix of anxiety and determination. "If we are going to solve the madness of the world," she began, her voice steady despite her nerves, "we can start by respecting the human brain as an organic computer that works best with logic, emotion, creativity, and self-driven passion. Though we have the capacity for random access memory, it is a poor way to educate and the reason our schools damage our innate genius capacities."

Derek listened patiently, his expression unreadable. When she finished, he simply said, "Go."

"But I don't want to," Lexie protested, her voice tinged with desperation.