Tocka

Chapter 1 | Drowning

When you are young, you are invincible.

You think you can be anything, a dolphin trainer, an astronaut, a mad scientist or a wizard. Or all of them, all at once.

And you can.

The young heart always prevails. No judgement, failure or criticism can ever bring it down.

But then, one day, you're heart isn't young anymore.

Now, it's shackled by fear, fear of judgement, of failure and of criticism.

This is a story of a tattered and tired heart and how it grew its wings again.

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Chapter 1

After watching yet another NigaHiga video, I pondered my options. Should I rewatch Ariana Grande's a cappella version of Dangerous Woman for the bazillionth time or another episode of The Descendants of The Sun?

I had to finish reading all of Dante's Divine Comedy that day, and I still hadn't gotten past the first verse of Inferno. Every time I attempted to read the book, I would be overwhelmed by the physical compulsion to either sleep or watch YouTube videos.

I tried to fight the impulse, but it was a losing battle.

I was just too good at procrastinating. I guess that made me a pro-crastinator. Haha.

I glanced at the clock, 4:30.

4:30.

4:30!

"Shit, I am so fucking screwed!" I cried in despair, pulling at my hair.

But instead of picking up the damn book and reading it, I decided it was a much better idea to take a break instead. I shouldn't overexert my eyes, right?

Lying on the cool (and extremely dirty) wooden floor, I let my thoughts consume me.

That was a mistake; thoughts tend to drown.

Flies buzzed around the one light on the ceiling of our dorm.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Nine.

There were nine.

Interesting, there were only seven yesterday.

I could feel the air in my lungs go in, out, in, out.

The sound of my breath was drowned out by the light hum of the fan. But it was only pushing hot, humid air around.

My hair stuck to my face, sticky. It was hard to breathe, because of the humidity.

I stared at the light as a weight built on my chest with every breath I took.

In. Out. In. Out.

I don't want to do this anymore.

My heart sank into my stomach and a sour sensation built up behind my nose.

In. Out. In. Out.

I refused to cry.

The tears pooled at the bottom of my eyes. But if I looked up at the ceiling, they won't fall.

In. Out. In. Out.

The flies buzzed lightly around the light, making quiet ting sounds as they repeatedly ran into it. They were so stupid. How could they mistake the light bulb as the sun? 

I chucked an eraser at them. They just continued to buzz.

I really don't want to do this anymore.