Mr. Pride and I | jjk x llm

29

Lisa

The class was oddly silent, most students only resting their heads on top of their desks as their arms acted as support, a sight I never seemed to be familiar of.

The teacher had given the period for us to freely do whatever it is we wanted, trusting, of course, that we are to not make noise that would cause for her to lose focus on whatever task she is to do, nor are we even allowed to transfer seats in hopes of talking to the friends that were placed seats from where one was.

My head rested on top of my palm as my arm stood by the elbow, supporting the weight of it all as I questioned how my class did not seem to find ways to communicate with the other, just as they always did at the rarest of times we were given such wondrous oppurtunities, if I do say so myself.

Though, I did not try to further find reasons as to why they aren't doing what I grew to start seeing as a, 'normal,' assuming how the performance tasks our teachers had given almost all at once, drained what energies was left of their bodies, just as it all had with mine. However, I find myself having enough energy to not feel exhausted at all, which, surprised me, to say the very least.

The tasks were not at all easy, nor, of course, had they all been given with due dates that never did go far from the other did help. Though, I could not quite complain at the said madness, as they all called such stressful account, in voices that always groaned upon creating remarks that held the same point as all the others did.

It was not fair.

However, I knew too well of how life seemed to function, of all the supposed tragedies one may encounter, of how everything else may seem to go according to how one may wanted it to be, and the next, everything seemed to go against whatever it is you are to do, to say, and of the disappointments life just can't help, but bring. It all was too known, too familiar, too normal-and it was, though the very same concept that surrounded their very beings never did seem to come in accordance with them

That's life, as they all say.

I let out a sigh, long and deep, closing my eyes as I did so, now growing more aware of the silence that enveloped the room, so silent to points where silence is all that I can hear, which, as I dove deeper into madness, just as I had in all the times silence grew far too strong, silence always, then, became screams that I knew only existed in my own mind.

I kept my eyes closed, attempting to block screams that had already started to echoe through the depths of my thoughts as the silence continued on growing, but I don't let it go deeper than it already had as I listened, focused on my breathing, a calming process of which never failed to relax me further, always bewildered at how it was even possible, despite once thinking how I couldn't possibly feel better-relaxed, than this.

I let my mind cloud, allowing myself to further fall in the depths of such peace that I needed, and knew I did. It now was so, so silent-one that never needed blocking from screams my very own mind made, one that I always was fond of, one that gave illusions of freedom I so badly wanted, though I did posses, but never really got enough of. This silence, I grew to know, was a friend I had found comfort in, and it never did fail to do just that.

I let my head fall deeper into the spaces in my palm, aware of how it may cause unwanted pins and needles I would so badly want to take out, but, it never really mattered, at least, not now. I breathed in a deep breath, a smile drawing its way up my lips as I let what I had been holding in out, though, upon such thought did such a short-lived moment end as the reality of it all seemed to come crashing back before my very being.

I let out a breath, an act of which I know is very much easy to do, a need to do. I wished, then, that the very same rules were to be applied in terms of having to let go of emotions you did not want, of thoughts you tried hard to forget, and, even one that held life, no matter the creature-only then, will it all be easy. But, a breath was far from the such, though, not really, for all listed showed of how beautiful it is to be human, to love, to be hurt, to be happy, to be said-and, really, to just feel, allowing us to seem raw and vulnerable. Which, to me, seemed quite fascinating. However, it never had been easy, and it certainly was not at this very moment.