Everyone once was innocent – before school, before the assignments, before responsibility – and everybody once was happy.
And he knew that.
School was a waste of time, he thought. It was always – always– the same; chirping adults and fluttering students trading places and answers. Some of the teachers said that school was not a choice – but what they learn was. But was it really? Everything had a set place. Everything was planned and blocked and everyone bent to the rules and everything was in order.
He didn’t like that.
From the moment he set foot into his school, he knew his fate was sealed. Work piled up in his mind and pathways mingled into a complex maze. He realized that, in order to survive, he had to be like everyone else. His friends got along fine, their classes balanced and sturdy; their smiles unwavering and voices clear.
His schedule was nonexistent and he relied on everyone else to breathe. He knew he had the skills necessary to live, but he couldn’t use them. Everyone made fun of him for being stupid/not using his intelligence/useless/helpless and he just absorbed it all. At night he stayed awake wondering what had happened to him? In the morning he felt hazy.
What had happened to him?
The days stretched into each other like words in paragraphs and rivers; and he found himself spacing out a lot more. They waved in his face – handouts, hands, chairs, and lives. He couldn’t see the point anymore. What was to life? Everyday, the same: school and homework. Voices flittered around him, squeaking about promising futures and work and–
the continuation of all this.
Nobody, nobody – you are nobody and you are a failure – once you could’ve been more, you understand? Why didn’t you? Take this and that and you could’ve been so much better. You are a failure. You are a disappointment and you are something no one needs around. You should try harder. Try harder (he was, he really was)! Be normal! You could’ve been normal! You are normal, right? Answer me! You are normal! So,
do what everyone else is doing.
I can’t. I can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t. I’m not like anyone else – I’m stupid. Did you hear me? I’m fucking stupid. I’m different. I’m not normal – I’m not smart. Everything I achieved is a fluke. A fluke. I’m missing something everyone else has.
You’re fine. Don’t fuss too much – it’s nothing. You are normal.
He wasn’t. He was sure of it. He was a failure and everyone else was fine. He was going crazy, going in circles, going down the wrong road and going wrong. He was sure he was a failure. Everyone would eventually leave him and he would be alone and sobbing while dreaming of happiness, joy hard-earned (the best kind). But he couldn’t do anything because he was a failure, a lonely person who faltered under pressure and glancing mental strength and sometimes he wanted to run away and cry in the freaking rain.
He knew he could never go.
No one snaps that easily.
Everyone else was fine (so why wasn’t he?).
He could learn.
He could try harder (try harder!).
But he was nothing everyone else was and no one was anything like him. He would never be the best or the worst or survive and he would fall and fall and maybe even die – or snap and break slowly until nothing would be left.
And he knew that.