It is again that I find myself trapped in this hell-like surrounding. I need to keep my mouth shut in order to protect myself from those bitter-hearted creatures. My mind is numb, as it’s suppose to be. I am watching my abilities fade as well as my imagination; they have ruined it! I realize that I am a smart kid. Bud now, I keep asking myself why am I hear? Such a silly feeling to meet their unrealistic expectations – the most painful thing is that my curiosity is forbidden without exception. What am I suppose to do when my brain is starved during the day? Should I blame myself for being different? Should I keep my mouth shut and pretend I know nothing when I know that something is wrong? Should I just ignore those flaws in the system?
I am weeping. Do you hear me, dearest diary? I am weeping so hard from my gloomy soul. I am mourning at the back of the classroom yet pretending nothing is wrong and that everything is as it is suppose to be. My saddened heart keeps crying all day long and I don’t think that there’s a chance it will be pacified. I live in façade. I’m like a tiger yearning for freedom while trapped in a cage. My soul is like a bird and a bird should be able to fly to reach its potential. My imagination helps me portray joyfulness. I am hands white keys. I hear it! It’s me playing the piano, the only thing that can cure me from the sorrow.
This is the work of fiction written by Wall Street English student, originally published on UNSHY Magazine.
Chonlasuang Pornsooksawang is fond of science and arts. Playing piano, reading and painting is her life. She believes in learning, that everything on earth is laid bare for her to learn and actualize her dreams.