August/ 12:23
Langston Hughes once wrote:
'Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird..'
Often, I find myself lost in this very thought. The idea of a dream perplexes me. The concept that one can think of the future and work towards it always keeps me entertained. What even is classified as a dream? Was it a career, a job, a house? Or was it that I want to have pizza for dinner because a dream is a dream right? A dream is supposed to be something you make happen in the future. So, when I say I have no dreams and to the ones I have I pay no heed, why is it that small whispers of many ideas and thoughts cloud my mind, taking over the very thing that I believe makes me unique, that I choose to have no dreams. Why is it that everything I want in my future has to be classified under a dream? Can humans simply not comprehend the idea of wanting something without making it a fantasy or do I simply refuse to accept that I can plan for the future, that I am allowed to do so?
— Excerpt from Alex's Book of Mind Boggling Thoughts
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ONE
ᴀʟᴇx ᴍᴇᴇᴛs ʜɪᴍ
𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.
He was seated on the cushioned wooden chair that made creaky noises every time he moved his arms to emphasize on certain words. Going about a million words a minute, blabbering on and on about his hobbies, there he was. The leader, Mr. Lock had merely asked for a simple introduction which everybody knows is code for what your name is, but here he sat, educating us about his whole life story that I could care less about.
"After that, my parents moved here to Boston to be closer to the family," he said air-quoting 'family' with his hands. I didn't listen to anything else he said and focused more on staring at the big clock placed on the rather ugly green wall opposite to me.
Four minutes. How long could one person speak? Why don't we have any time limit for this? One really wasn't four minutes worth interesting material. And if he was, I would have been listening to him. What was his name? I'm sure it'll come up again at some point.
"What was your most recent project, Elijah?" asked Mr Lock.
Elijah. That was his name. Quite a common one.
Mr. Lock was one of the best English teachers we had in school. He was rather dedicated to spending time with students who he called 'potential writers, avid readers and marvellous speakers'. He tried to hold fun writing games in school and hosted an after school Literary Group. Although it wasn't a thing offered by the school itself, it was something he started to encourage students from our school and other students to join. He didn't make going mandatory or necessary and didn't ask any real payment for hosting it. He encouraged all ages to participate because he believed 'nobody is too young or old to be passionate'. Quite the sappy guy like that.
However, I personally loved Mr. Lock. He had been my mentor for almost a year now and I was very thankful to have someone who to guide me like him. Our group is usually about eight to ten people ranging between nine to twenty (or that was what I was told). Some of them I knew from school and I was comfortable around most of them since I was a regular attendee.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"I haven't done much writing recently, but hopefully that will change," replied Elijah, curling his lips in the slightest smile.
"Would anybody else like to share their recent writing pieces or would you prefer to work on prompts today to encourage Elijah?"
Everyone stared across at each other indecisively with blank expressions washing over their faces. I personally wanted to talk about the new competition I was going to participate in, but I doubted that the topic would arise anytime soon. So, I just sat there tight-lipped, hoping for someone to bring it up. Almost on cue, Sarah quipped in.
"Actually, Alex and I were thinking of taking part in the article writing competition coming up this month. We thought it would be a good opportunity to mingle with writers from other schools," said Sarah, motioning for me to add in.
"We uh- the topic is about sustainability. We don't really have many ideas individually to constitute an article no more than 400 words. We were hoping to sign up for creative writing actually," I said while glancing at Mr. Lock who was nodding at me and noting down points of what I was saying.
"Well, all types of exposures are beneficial to you and the more experience in different types of writing, the better it is for you. Are both of you planning to include statistics or write based on creativity assuming you are going as a group?" he asked.
"We are. I suggested that some sort of statistics would help us on what sort of ideas to work on, but Alex wasn't too keen on it. He wanted to go more creative and take logistical data out of the equation altogether. We just aren't sure how much of a risk we want to take with that considering the safe parameter would be verified data," said Sarah.
"I understand how using data would keep us in the game, but I think being more out of the box would be more attention-catching for the judges," I shrugged.
"I mean, it's just an article. Write whatever comes to your head eh?" butted in Elijah with his absolutely useless advice for us.
I glared at Elijah, ready to pounce anytime now.
"I understand how that may be helpful for you, Elijah. However, both Alex and Sarah like to plan what they write before diving into it which works best for them, especially in group assignments," said Mr. Lock.
Elijah and I kept on arguing for the rest of the session. I particularly didn't appreciate his ideas at all but he kept pouring them anyway. Mr. Lock was pretty sick at our behaviour and repeatedly told me to consider his suggestions, but I was determined to do it my way. Sarah wasn't doing anything to help the matter either. She just covered her mouth to stop herself from cackling loudly. At this point, everybody were definitely fed up with me if they weren't already since the beginning.
However, Elijah had given some pretty good points for the article and Sarah, who was supposed to walk home with me was over talking to him right now.
Sarah and I have been neighbours for the longest of times. She had been there for me whenever I needed it and was always supportive of everything I did. In fact, she joined the group only because I was too chicken to go alone and she had always been like that. She always spoke up when I chickened out and did things with me if I wanted someone to.
I approached her and said, "Ready to go?" I raised my eyebrows in question.
"Almost. Did you meet Elijah? Apparently, he goes to your school," she said with an excited smile making its way to her face.
"Alex," I said, giving a small smile towards him.
"I was hoping he could hang out with us today," said Sarah.
"But we were going to work on the article today."
"We'll just do that tomorrow alright," she said.
Sarah had already started walking away on our usual route back home.
"If you have any items you wanna grab, like that camera of yours, do it quickly because she has the patience of a puppy. Make it quick before I have to bring out the leash," I cackled.
"Die, Browne, die," she said, attempting to make a scary killer face at me before turning the other side.
I looked towards Elijah's direction who was on some sort of call and continued to run to catch up with Sarah.
"Walk faster, dill hole."
"Maybe if I was a giraffe like you," I said motioning to her 5'8 body.
"You are just threatened that I get more boys than you," she said, poking her tongue out at me.
"No, I'm enraged that you do," I said stomping my feet.
"Find someone who cares."