The tension built up in his chest, overwhelming him with endless stress and worry. It looked like all was lost. Each day was the same: dull, dreary uniformity, walking from place to place with the same look of discontent on his face, those around him becoming snappier and more irritable with each passing hour. Every single thing around him became annoying.
He decided to just let go. Everything would work out in the end, he was just thinking too much about the consequences of failure. Nothing is more important than happiness.
On many occasions, he remembered lines of a poem he had once heard. This poem always slipped back into his life at some point or another. “There is light somewhere; it may not be much light, but it beats the darkness”… “Your life is your life; know it while you have it”.
Wide-eyed, he looked up at the clouds drifting overhead. Several different emotions ran through him: content, cheerfulness; overall, a positive outlook on life. While yes, he was stuck in a class he hated, idly typing away on the computer to kill what time was left before he would be set free into that big, open, welcoming world out there, happiness was the main thing that kept him going. Nothing could bring him down now. With the new Arcade Fire record in his ears, it seemed that life could not get much better than this.
“What a contrast” he thought, “After all of the stress of school work, I’m finally happy”.
Cut to the next day: the final day of term. The stress and panic is back, full-force. It seemed that this was a perpetual routine: worry, despair; realisation, content. Currently, however, he was in the former part of this emotive circle. So many things to do. The prospect of incomplete school work had gotten the best of him, and though his cheery mood from the day before had not worn off completely, it had still faded considerably.
Glancing, as usual, out the window, he could see the colours grey and white staring right back at him from the sky. Below, many trees waved their branches enthusiastically at anyone who cared to look. What a contrast from yesterday. Quickly, this view was obstructed with the drawing of the curtains directly in front of him, pulling him reluctantly back into the chatter-filled classroom that he was trapped in.
His chest felt heavy. Soon, he would have to face his final attempt of completing his assignment. Why the fuck was this taking so long?
This time, the words of a song rang in his ears:
"This place is a prison; These people aren't your friends"
How do these people manage to make music for every situation?
He lay back in his chair, attempting to relax. Here, he spotted the worn ceiling. Many holes had been ripped in it over the years, and it had been warped by previous moisture problems, drooping down overhead, leering at him from every angle.
Finally, the sound of a bell freed him.
The work was finally over. The curse was lifted. Everything was right with the world once more. Just one word from a song spoke to him this time, from the innermost part of his brain:
“Free”.
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