The only thing he could think about was the frustration.
The knowledge that he could never communicate.
He could never, ever make his points known.
All he could do is stay cooped up inside his own head. It was torture.
He had so many thoughts, so many ideas, so many opinions.
One could argue he was the smartest person he knew.
But no one would ever know.
If he couldn't tell them anything, how would they ever know?
He sat in his home, the trees waving outside.
He was struck by inspiration, something he should have thought of years ago!
Years ago...
He had been young then, and his dreams of going to the best school in the country had been shattered by one flaw.
He had been bitter then, but had come to terms with the facts of his life.
He just wished things could change.
He was so desperate he almost wanted Bill to come back to grant a final wish. Even if there was some ironic twist, he didn't care.
He just wanted to speak.
Finally, he rang a bell, and a team of his caretakers came in. As he lay in bed, he felt his words escaping him, the workers trying to keep him alive.
He wanted to tell them to let him be.
Their attempts were in vain, however.
With his final breath, he drew up his breath and tried, with all his might, to speak.
"Shmebulock."
The knowledge that he could never communicate.
He could never, ever make his points known.
All he could do is stay cooped up inside his own head. It was torture.
He had so many thoughts, so many ideas, so many opinions.
One could argue he was the smartest person he knew.
But no one would ever know.
If he couldn't tell them anything, how would they ever know?
He sat in his home, the trees waving outside.
He was struck by inspiration, something he should have thought of years ago!
Years ago...
He had been young then, and his dreams of going to the best school in the country had been shattered by one flaw.
He had been bitter then, but had come to terms with the facts of his life.
He just wished things could change.
He was so desperate he almost wanted Bill to come back to grant a final wish. Even if there was some ironic twist, he didn't care.
He just wanted to speak.
Finally, he rang a bell, and a team of his caretakers came in. As he lay in bed, he felt his words escaping him, the workers trying to keep him alive.
He wanted to tell them to let him be.
Their attempts were in vain, however.
With his final breath, he drew up his breath and tried, with all his might, to speak.
"Shmebulock."