Who Are We Now?

Paper Boats

They told us we are the future. They said that we could change the world. We are all paper boats floating on a river of dreams and aspirations- sometimes we sail and sometimes we sink.

The teachers stand there, nodding their heads in rehearsed agreement and keeping their eyes fixed on the front of the hall, something they have done a hundred times before.

I scoff at the onslaught of desperately inspiring lies being fed to us and look over at Hallie. Her eyes were blank, her face reflecting her opinion of this tedious assembly as she began to roll her eyes. She met my gaze and we smiled.

These lies were so easily devoured by the others around us, so easily believed. I realised that people don't always believe things because they think that they're at all credible or true but because they want to believe them. We all want to think that we're special- that we are some how relevant or important in this world. It's just not true.

"You have the power to change the world! Believe in yourself and your abilities and never give up."

I sighed, crossing my arms as a sign of disagreement. A second of quiet rebellion.

The bell rang abruptly, shrill and long, silencing the head mistress in the middle of her speech (thank God). As we were dismissed, pupils jumped from their seats and rushed towards one of the two exits in a relentless stampede, pushing and swearing at others as they collided.

I became caught in the rushing ocean of people, stumbling and wading through them as I tried to reach my friends who seemed to have been granted the same fate as me.

There was a second of calm when we found each other and then we decided to risk certain death by venturing into the crowd again.

Hallie was singing a song I didn't know in a hushed, mumbled voice. She did this a lot, escaping through her music. I wonder where it takes her.

Anna walked just behind me, gushing about the endless possibilities of our future and the many things we could accomplish. Her eyes were wild and hopeful, darting around the hall.
"I just," she started. "Isn't it amazing Liv?"
"Yes. So amazing. Almost as amazing as how many people in this school will go through life undiscovered and irrelevant." I replied, sarcasm dripping from my voice. She pouted, uttering a muffled remark.

"What do we even have first period? I haven't looked at my time table in weeks." Chloe asked, a hint of urgency in her voice. I turned around to face her, walking backwards through the door and furrowing my brows as I thought of the answer. "Maths? No! English. Yeah, English." Her usual forced smile began to deteriorate as she moaned loudly, earning few confused and questioning glances from the boys.

I like English. I like writing. Well, I like writing what I want to write but- let's be honest- that luxury is often never granted in high school. Our tasks remain extremely tedious and dull and take absolutely no creative effort at all. Sometimes I feel like we are all becoming blank concrete slates that authority can sculpt or write on or paint so that we conform to their every request. How can they try to convince us that we're all special when they are the ones  limiting us and pushing us along as we begrudgingly accept the future that has already been laid out for us?

Still, I complain but do nothing to rectify the situation. I guess that makes me even worse than them.