Reflections of A Teen Realist

Insanity or Reality?

Standing on the rooftop of her 8 floor apartment building, Lani gazed out at the city beyond, and wondered, how long it would take to purge the evil from every hiding place and corner within? How many people would lose their lives because of murder, pedophilia, hypocrisy, those that chose to abuse animals because they felt themselves so superior to the rest of existence?

Even as she gazed down at the city streets, she felt disgusted with the turning point society had taken, and wondered if she would ever fit in to the race called life? Or was she born for something greater?

Her hazel eyes flashed with annoyance, turning instead to the horizon laced with a setting sun, creamy orange clouds tinged by the dying rays, the dark coming in to stake its territory for another night. She slid from the ledge and laid on the black floor, her mind reeling, spinning, trying to find some semblance of sanity that she halfway worried would never come?

It was true she was young, only 18 years old, a high school graduate, valedictorian, President's Honor Roll in her first year at college, majoring in history with a second major in writing, and it was because of this that people told her she needed to lighten up, stop taking things so harshly and enjoy being young, even stay ignorant if it meant fitting in, being accepted, and happier. That was how they lived their lives, and they were doing just fine. They even preached that she would never go farther than what she had if she didn't learn to let go and find the positive. She guessed it was easy to be ignorant, blissful even, because you weren't in any danger not knowing. But that was far from the truth, and she couldn't just let it pass.

Running a hand through her dark brown hair, she gave a sighing laugh when she thought back to the days when she DID tow the party line; when she believed what she had been told by the educators, the media, those in positions of power, and how wonderful it felt to meet those like minded, being accepted and loved; for nothing more than being fake. She'd shied away from the anything that wasn't mainstream; colored hair, different clothes, piercings, tattoos, she wouldn't even wear jewelry or shoes that didn't have a name brand label. She believed the designers worked hard to bring out all these wonderful ideas, and it was her duty to buy, no matter the cost. To be different, even to believe different, was considered a mental illness among most, and she didn't want people to hate her, lose respect, or shy away because she didn't hold to that patriotic, good old fashioned attitude.

How contemptuous she has been; arrogant, snotty, disrespectful to different cultures and convictions. Now, she was regarded as cynical, pessimistic, and unworthy of even a noticeable glance.

She wondered if one day she would give in to the urges, and become a psychopathic serial killer, bent on eradicating the hypocrites, the charlatans, the offenders and the assassins. Could she become light a modern day Batman, but instead of crazed lunatics and terrorists that dressed like they were from a bad 70's and 80's flick, she would fight corruption, injustice, and anyone who showed themselves to be less than worthy of a living body?

There was no doubt she would be seen to be on the same level, but even the Boondock Saints were hailed as heroes in the hearts of many, and even though it wouldn't have an ending where they were going to be liberated from lockup and able to continue their work, she would at least take her eventual execution with pride, knowing that she had sent a message to the wicked and maybe, just maybe, changed the world for the better.

Darkness had rolled in as her thoughts ended, stars now sparkling overhead like diamonds and the cold air of November rolled in. She glanced at her watch and heaved herself to her feet. She took a last glance at the cityscape, the buildings now beacons of yellow and white brilliance to drive the dark away, before descending the stairs to partake in another family meal where she would be more of a spectator than a speaker.

Her only solace lay in the fact that,for now, she wasn't alone. Her like minded supporters may be hidden,but they made their presence known, and one day she would standbeside them, knowing she had taken the right path in the end.