...wtf, man? xD;;
*cough* I did this one back in June...for my ENGLISH EXAM!! xDDD It took me the full two and a half hours, but I DID get %78 percent on the exam! Which has like, NEVER happened before!! :DDD As soon as I got home from it, I took the rough copy with me and I typed it up.
The topic was "Freedom" and instead of writing a lecture or "what freedom means to me" or something boring like that, I wrote this! xDDD
Rating: PG? O.o;
Summary: "I was scrubbed clean until I shined and sparkled with my uniform fitted just right. Not a wrinkle or spot of filth to be found."
Addition Notes: Done for my grade 11 English exam. REALLY short.
No more than ten minutes ago, I was a prisoner; trapped at eight-teen years old in a wretched, abusive, repetitive system. Marching the lifeless, pale hallways with my books and notes in hand, flying on auto-pilot to my next destination. I was scrubbed clean until I shined and sparkled with my uniform fitted just right. Not a wrinkle or spot of filth to be found on my lean frame. My shoes were always polished and without scuffs, looking as new as the first ray of morning light, and tied with double knots just to be extra careful. There was never a stray hair to be found on my head; it was always combed and sprayed lightly with hairspray to ensure that it stayed flawless throughout the day. I was the perfect boy...the perfect student, even. Some said I was almost doll-like, but I still believe that the more accurate word was “alien”, or "robot".
Upon reaching the next class on my strict schedule, precisely three minutes early as always, I would tighten my cherry red tie just two centimetres tighter and run my fingers through my long black hair from my brow to the back to remove the hair from my eyes. Putting on the same small but cheery smile like every other day, I’d walk into the classroom and quietly take my seat front and center after greeting the teacher. The hours would pass and eventually I’d be free, if only for a little while.
“Home”, as others liked to call it, was not as safe and warm for me as it might have been for them. I had a strict schedule there, too, that left me zero time to spend with my one and only dear friend, YehSung.
“4pm: Arrive”, “4:30pm - 6pm: Homework”, “6:05pm: Dinner”, “6:30pm - ???: Study, study, study!”
And if my father figure would be home and/or sober enough, there would surely be long, loud arguments over my personal choices and interests, followed by beatings to rid me of my impurities. This would happen sometime between “6:05 Dinner” and “Studying”.
After that, I had no schedule. I’d sit on the cold, hard tiles of my bathroom floor and nurse my wounds with a wet towel. Usually, it’d become difficult to breathe and my pain would spill forth and leave a transparent stain the cold floor until I fell asleep and the towel dried. The anger would bubble and burn in my stomach; I remember I could feel it, I could taste it, creeping in my throat. The fine acidic stew of anger, stress, and heartache; my best memories from those nights. Of course, I knew that the next day would just be the same, and so would the next and the one after, too, just like always.
I can’t ever forget those six or seven years of my life, but I can certainly try to smile a bit brighter now.
I adjust my glasses on my nose slightly and stare longingly into the thick green forest we are rushing past. My hand is resting gently on my lap and on my skin I can feel the warmth from the cigarette between my long, skinny fingers. I place the little stick between my lips, inhaling the sweet addicting nicotine. I hold it in my lungs for a few moments, feeling the chemicals soothe my already calming nerves, before letting the smoke drift out of my mouth only to be left hanging in the warm air behind us.
“HeeChul,” I hear his voice call my name. My head turns slightly in his direction; I see him glance at me with a small, genuine smile lingering on his lips. The one that always makes me feel safe and loved; the one that is just for me.
Half of my face is obscured by my hair which is flying about in every direction due to the speed at which YehSung happens to be driving and the fact that there is no top on the car. I brush the slightly tangled strands out of the way, not helping the mess any but indeed improving my vision and my image.
“Where are we headed?” he asks me, staring out at the long, empty road.
“Seoul.” I reply immediately, looking behind me out of the corner of my eye at my large suitcases on the back seats. He nods and steps on the gas; we’re flying down the road at such incredible speed, it makes my heart race madly, and I sink back into my seat for a moment until the pleasant adrenaline rush is over. “Destination: Seoul.”
I shift in my seat and lean over to kiss him softly on the cheek. He takes his eyes off the road for just a moment to look into mine and reward me with a real kiss. I smile into his supple lips before sadly breaking the wonderful contact I had with him to sit in my own seat properly. I close my eyes and rest my head against the white-leather seat with a small smile on my face; peaceful, thankful, exhausted, and just plain happy for once. I can feel the warm summer sun touching my face softly, as well as my bare feet that are resting up on the dashboard. YehSung’s hand covers mine and I can feel his pulse in his thumb. It’s knocking against the back of my hand and it’s very relaxing. I inhale the fresh country air of Korea and, reluctantly, I let it escape from my lungs. My mind is at finally in a peaceful state now and I start to let it run where it chooses. I concentrate on the warm sun splayed across my face and the love of my life sitting next to me; I concentrate on the cool breeze weaving through my hair and the big city life of Seoul; I concentrate on the fact that I am now a man and I am now free. Feeling YehSung give my hand a light squeeze, I grin as my heart gives an extra little “thump”.
The next time I open my eyes, I’ll know what true freedom is.
thank you...don't shoot, please♥