Burning Brighter
That theory, the one that says that the next generation is always wilder than the next? It didn't work for us. No, this generation of kids was different. We were smart. No, not smart, brilliant. We were built for bright futures and what's worse is we knew it. We knew we were different. We were brooding, confused teenagers at eight years old. The opposite sex did not change us into giggling messes- we were above that. We didn't engage in meaningless squabbles. The word discord was alien to us. We were examples of the ideal child. Parents wished we were their kids. Kids wished they were us. We were the Golden Children of the world. We were the future and everyone knew it.
Precocious. That's what we were. We knew we were better than them, but we didn't show it. We were not always social butterflies- we didn't need to be. But we burnt so brightly. So brightly that we wondered when we'd crash. There was no innocence here. No immaturity. We presented a clean façade to the world. One of maturity and cynicism with a touch of calculated earnestness. It was all calculated in the end. Each grade, each achievement. We needed to succeed. We survived off of the accolades and congratulations. Underneath, we were frightened kids. Wide eyed and petrified of failing. Perpetually terrified of falling. Too scared to trust and too scared to do anything but rise.
Rising with each day. The darlings of authority. Perpetually busy with new activities. Always exceeding, never failing. But sometimes our smiles were painted. Sometimes our laughs were forced. No one can remain golden forever. Watchful eyes upon us. Looking out for each other, always ready to haul the tired cousin up the next rung of the ladder. There is no failing among the ranks. We must stay strong for all those who watch so intently. Above all in importance was the picture we presented to the world.
There isn't anywhere to go now. We are flawless and perfect. No one will see us fail if we can help it. It is all important. And so far, it's worked. We play on Quidditch teams as first years and have our pictures in the Prophet. We earn internships and achieve all O's. We exchange casual conversation with school administrators and share jokes with Professors. But we've reached the top of the ladder. We could try to go farther, but we don't know if we can fly. Everyone else would say we could, but we know us. We know it's all an illusion. Our paper masks could fall any day. Our painted smiles could wash off with the next rain.
But for now, we'll put off the inevitable. We'll just stay still and look pretty. We'll smile down benevolently on those beneath us. After all, we are the best.
We glow. We shine. We sparkle. We wait for the day when the fire consumes us and we plummet towards the earth.
But for now, we burn brighter with each passing day and smile just a little bit more.