STUDENT 08-0079

Spring…

The time when all that has once died raises and blossoms twice as beautiful as ever before. But I cannot help but shake the feeling of dreaded despair as I walk the ghostly empty road to the gates of the very place that which holds the false promise of sanctuary to the people who choose to reside within it;

Secondary School

Sugarcoat College

That panging feeling in my stomach irked me with every step I made toward the very building. The school looked very prison-like in features. All but Higher Walls and Barbed Wire were the features ever so similar (Although it was also quite small). The corridors rather narrow and cramped, as if to house Cats in mansion form.

The students gathered in packs, which made the hallways difficult to navigate. Each foot struggling to step forward. Their menacing, jeering faces hung over me like a gawking pendulum. They almost looked laughable in the pale glow of the Springtime Sunlight. My feet had begun to feel heavy as I climbed the flight of stairs to my first class;

Geography,

To which my teacher was equally, if not more daunting than the other students. Mr. Boyle, a short, plump, round man with an expression so full of spite. 1940’s Germany could have fed off of it.

“Okay, class!” He exclaimed “Take your seats and produce your Home Exercises”

Geography was never my subject. Hence, in short terms, I had not completed the desired exercises.
“Student 08-0079”

“Present, sir” My stomach had begun to tie itself in knots from within my body,

“Exercise?”

“Incomplete”

“That’s two days in a row, 08-0079!”

“But sir, I’m not going to be participating in Geography for the End-Year exams. Why should I partake in them for the Year of Transition?”

“That’s enough!” he bellowed “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Yes! The feeling is quite mutual! Why would one even think of presenting you with a job when You can’t teach a snail to retract into its shell! Which is what you’re best at, after all!”

“… get out of my classroom.”

“With my most sincere pleasure…” I gathered my belongings and shuffled hurriedly to the door “Sir.”

The man deep down knows my statement to be true. What is the old phrase? ‘The truth hurts’
Not a single day passes where I don’t get abuse of some sort. Be it by my peers or my teachers. Me? I’m just a number and everyone sees me as such. I just want to be seen as a human being. Talked to like a human being. I want to stand out and not be just a mere digit behind or ahead of someone.  I want to be recognized. I’m not a machine. I’m flesh. I’m bone. I’m blood. I’m organs. I’m the master of my own mind and would like it to be independent as such with the ability to choose what goes in and what comes out. This school is feeding my mind Lies! LIES!

There are great differences between the Brain, The Mind and the Body.

The Brain;

A physicality that contains the mind like a case. The key word being Physicality.

The Body;

A vessel used to carry one’s self

The Mind;

The most beautiful piece of the human being. The entity that makes each of us so unique, so enticing. An Entity. The mind has no structure. The mind only has a vessel. It is carried by the brain and body.

The Mind… is You.

You, Me, Everyone and their Uncle.

The Mind is like Springtime. What was once nothing has now bloomed into something beautiful. The branches of an Oak Tree were once bare and brittle. Just as the mind was once blank. The leaves grow and fall. But they always grow back twice as green and five times as sturdy.

Much like the mind can forget. But what was once forgotten is still buried deep down in the dark areas of the entity awaiting the inevitable pluck of human reasoning.

So why can’t this facility allow me to choose?!
I want MY thoughts! I want to have free will! I want to be guided, not put on a dog leash with a number slapped on my forehead. I can’t remember the last time I had true independent thought.

***

I walked up to my locker area and wept into my hands, which began to tremble. I grabbed at my hair and had seriously considered pulling until nothing remained. Then, a shadowy figure approached me

“Child, how many years are you?” the deep voice asked soothingly.

“16” I sniffed and composed myself

The figure who approached revealed himself to be Dorian, a member of staff. “16… Child, you Are aware that the doors aren’t bolted shut. You may leave at free will.”

“What?”

“Yes. What’s your service tag?” He gently grabbed at the pin on the collar of my white shirt “08-0079… You have a creative mind. I can tell. This facility wasn’t for Me either. Their way of life simply didn’t agree with me.”

“Then why did you return?”

“Because I was afraid to make something of myself. You, Child, however have a chance. The gates are right there. I’m going to leave You with a piece of advice. Take it or leave it as you wish. But from my point of view, you have two choices. One; Eat the propaganda every day and come back for seconds until the day you die. Or Two; Become a Phoenix. Rise from the ashes of this… Monstrosity. And become what You want to become… I do hope You make the correct choice… instead of making all the ones You’ll regret. Much like myself.

Dorian had disappeared around the corner of the narrow corridor and left me to my thoughts.
I grabbed my effects and had begun to run far far away from the building. Home was but a short distance but by God I was ecstatic.

I sat in the comfort of my bedroom and thought to myself “What do I stand for?”

…….. I suppose I have but the rest of my freshly growing life to find out.