The sun has only just begun to break over the horizon and I'm already sitting down at my desk. My roommate is still snoring away, but some insane urge inside me has forced me into consciousness. I'm busy scribbling a few phrases of poetry down in one of my Cultures notebooks; just those trivial lines that boys sometimes write when they're feeling especially sentimental. Actually, I don't consider myself a sentimental person. I don't keep birthday cards or goodbye notes, or any of those other gushy things that these so-called "sentimental" boys do.
I'm more of the person who needs to have a reason for everything. I feel as though every part of myself is devoted to something- my compassionate side is dedicated to keeping my siblings safe, my intellectual side is put forth towards college assignments. But I feel like there's something more. There's a part of me that's just missing.
Susan always said I would make an amazing leader. However, I wasn't even president of my high school chess club- just the stupid secretary. A position for people who aren't fit to lead. I'm fit to lead. Why won't anyone just give me a damn chance?
Maybe I don't deserve a chance. I am crazy, you know. Every night for the past month, I've had dreams about a giant lion. I think it might have some connection to that feeling that I've missed something. But if this lion is my key to a calmer mind, I don't feel like he's doing much to prove that to me. I can never remember what he says when I wake. It's all just a bunch of jumble garbage, like static in my brain.
It's like my mind is trying to block it out. A memory, perhaps, or maybe a direction my life might have taken. Was I supposed to have met this lion? Was something supposed to happen that wouldn't leave me so tormented now?
I don't have anymore good dreams left. Just washed up nightmares and pent up frustrations, and the lion. There's nothing good left. I'm sure there are some people who might think differently; to an outsider it might seem like I have everything. Caring sisters and a dedicated brother. A loving mother. A father that didn't die in the war. Enough money to pay for a quality education and still live comfortably. Compared to some of my friends, who are struggling not to fall into debt or who are still grieving over loved ones lost in the great war.
I don't have it all. I don't have peace of mind, and that's the most important thing. There's nothing on this world worth living for, without that missing piece of me.
And it's the start of a new day, I know, but I feel like the sun has already begun to set on me. Tomorrow, I'll be just another tragedy.