"That's one page down," I pull down my glasses to the point of my nose and squint my eyes. "Only nine more to go..."
Let's face it, writing an essay on what I see as the biggest threat to humanity isn't really my cup of tea. Shit, I don't think any living being would enjoy this form of torture. So far college has been the hardest, longest journey of my life. I've only been here for a few months and I don't exactly think I belong. I never wanted to waste time here in the first place. I knew before I graduated high school, I wasn't planning on attending another fou
r years stuck in a classroom. It's tough when I'm the only person here who isn't really motivated. It's especially tough because my very own mother is a professor, who is here to check on me, and my grades, more than I would like. Everyone just seems bland and I stick out like a sore thumb. I know, I'm 19 and I know, I'm supposed to be enjoying my time here...Isn't that what all the books and movies portray? Life in college is supposed to be fun, but I can't help but hate this place.And quitting isn't what I do. I was never that person to give up on something I had started, but I was beginning to think this is the exception. I can't complain about the price of college, because I'm not paying for it, so that's not something I can use as a way to justify me wanting to check out of this place. I can't stand the idea of giving four years of my life away for something I didn't want to do. I didn't enjoy writing essay after essay, or getting up to attend a class who's instructor couldn't properly enunciate his words. I wanted to spend time on my music.
I've always been sort of captivated by music, how it could be so beautiful and haunting at the same time. Ever since I was four music has been my escape, although I didn't figure that out until my teenage years.
I remember being around six, I had broken Mom's curling iron pretending that I was getting ready for my first concert as a big star. I didn't quite know how the thing worked,because I was never interested in getting my hair singed, and I completely broke the clamp off(In all fairness, the thing was cheap). I got yelled at for a few things that day:
One, because I was in my moms room when I was supposed to be in my own, and two, because I had used her things without any permission before hand(She was--is--a very territorial woman).
During all the scolding, I remember not shedding a single tear, but man did I want to just curl up in a ball and cry until my body could no longer produce tears. I left the room, mom still mindlessly yelling at me to come back. I can still hear the sound of my door slamming and locking as I plopped down on the floor and let out a heavy and long awaited breath. It went silent in the house for a moment, such a rare thing to occur in my home. I was reluctant to make a sound, not wanting to disturb the peace but soon heavy sobs and uneven breathing escaped my trembling lips. After a long while my lungs started to work properly again and my breathing was back to normal, I got up only to move my weak body to my bed. I laid there, arms crossed over my chest. I remember staring at the off-white, bumpy ceiling and humming a tune. My lips parted and I began to sing. A sweet sound filled the room and I was completely taken by my own voice. I never knew I could produce sounds like that. Every time I got hollered at after, I sang to myself until I felt better.
I rip off my glasses and toss them onto a cluttered mess. I hope there's still a desk under it all, it's been brutally smothered to death with important papers from useless classes. I get up. Actually, I stumble up. I've been sitting for so long my legs are slumbering and my bottom is a little numb. I rub my backside in an attempt to revive the sleeping nerves.
Once I regain feeling in my limbs, I walk over to the bathroom and flick on the lights.
I look up at my my reflection in the mirror, noticing the large, dark bruises under my eyes and brush my pale pink hair out of my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Blind [Ed Sheeran]
Fanfictionoh, hi, im rewriting this tr ash. So read if you would like, BUT things may dramatically change. Hope you understand. •••••••• "This is my chance," He whispers into my hair and I try to stop the tears from falling. He's finally made it big, somethin...