It was Release Day. The day that had been anticipated for a year and a half. A year and a half of waiting. And today, it was all going to be over.
I turned over in bed, thinking about what could happen today. It’d been so long since I’d experienced anything but the security of my small room that I could barely imagine returning to the outside world. I sighed and peered over at the clock on my nightstand. It read 4:30am. Before my mind could get ahead of me, I pulled on the string that activated the light bulb above my head. I stretched in the cold air, feeling my heart beat faster at the prospect of leaving the room. Memories of my dreams during the night, which usually remained stuck in my mind throughout the day, had been pushed out by the swirling anxiety in my brain. There was so much uncertainty about the near future. What would happen today? Would I be prepared for the outside world? Would my friends be there?
I tried to shake the anxious feelings, but it was difficult. I took a deep breath, and observed my dimly lit room. The shadows of my music stand and bookshelf made funny shapes on the blank walls. I thought about how much I’d improved since I'd arrived here, how much I’d learned. I wondered if my friends and parents would notice, and ask me about the subjects I studied. Secretly, I hoped they would. I had enjoyed passing all of my free hours with music theory and violin practice, but it still mattered to me that other people noticed my accomplishments. What if nobody found out how much I’d improved all of my skills? Nobody would be able to see the tall stack of music theory books I’d finished reading. I really hoped the concertmaster of my orchestra would compliment my violin playing. However, I knew that in reality, she could have forgotten about me completely.
I thought back to a day when I was younger, when my mother had spent an hour tying up my hair in french braids. I had begged her to do it so that it would be easier to make friends with the other girls. I sighed. What if you can’t make it out there? said the voice in my head. In the past, there had been difficulties in the outside world, especially with making friends. Now, the past taunted me, telling me the future would be the same. It made me dread leaving the room for a world of uncertainty. There was so much comfort in the room — it was safe to me. Despite the monotony of it, it was easy. There were no big tests, no worrying about what to wear or what to say. In a way, I was free. Or at least I had the freedom of feeling secure.
I shook my head to break out of my thoughts. Heading over to the workout corner of my room, I picked up my weights. I decided that since I couldn’t sleep, I might as well exercise. I started with an easier weight, then slowly progressed to heavier ones. In the same order as always, I went through each exercise. Straight arm crunches, military presses, bicycles, triceps extensions, repeat. It was the same familiar pattern that I always did, and I easily slipped into a rhythm. As my muscles started to strain, I could feel the stress leaving my body. Relief flowed through me as the exercise released the stress from my body. My worried thoughts disappeared, replaced with a sort of meditative state.
As my mind began to clear, I felt a sensation of clarity. Peace and control flooded my mind as I repeated each set of crunches. My breath became rhythmic, and it wasn’t long until I began to hear a familiar song. I felt like I’d known this song all of my life, even though I couldn’t define it. All I knew was that recently, the song had been opening things in my mind. It was as if I could believe the song, or even live it.
The more obsessed I got with this melody, the more it grew. It became a tune that I lived by. It was truth, hope for the future — it was real. I pulled up the dumbbell to my shoulder. Repeat, repeat, repeat. A single drop of sweat formed on my forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling the song pulling me along. A door appeared in my mind, and I opened it. I saw the future draped in a new light, and was filled with excitement. All fear had vanished. The world . . . was waiting for me. Calmly, full of peace and clarity, I walked through the door into the uncertain future, leaving my small room behind.
I turned over in bed, thinking about what could happen today. It’d been so long since I’d experienced anything but the security of my small room that I could barely imagine returning to the outside world. I sighed and peered over at the clock on my nightstand. It read 4:30am. Before my mind could get ahead of me, I pulled on the string that activated the light bulb above my head. I stretched in the cold air, feeling my heart beat faster at the prospect of leaving the room. Memories of my dreams during the night, which usually remained stuck in my mind throughout the day, had been pushed out by the swirling anxiety in my brain. There was so much uncertainty about the near future. What would happen today? Would I be prepared for the outside world? Would my friends be there?
I tried to shake the anxious feelings, but it was difficult. I took a deep breath, and observed my dimly lit room. The shadows of my music stand and bookshelf made funny shapes on the blank walls. I thought about how much I’d improved since I'd arrived here, how much I’d learned. I wondered if my friends and parents would notice, and ask me about the subjects I studied. Secretly, I hoped they would. I had enjoyed passing all of my free hours with music theory and violin practice, but it still mattered to me that other people noticed my accomplishments. What if nobody found out how much I’d improved all of my skills? Nobody would be able to see the tall stack of music theory books I’d finished reading. I really hoped the concertmaster of my orchestra would compliment my violin playing. However, I knew that in reality, she could have forgotten about me completely.
I thought back to a day when I was younger, when my mother had spent an hour tying up my hair in french braids. I had begged her to do it so that it would be easier to make friends with the other girls. I sighed. What if you can’t make it out there? said the voice in my head. In the past, there had been difficulties in the outside world, especially with making friends. Now, the past taunted me, telling me the future would be the same. It made me dread leaving the room for a world of uncertainty. There was so much comfort in the room — it was safe to me. Despite the monotony of it, it was easy. There were no big tests, no worrying about what to wear or what to say. In a way, I was free. Or at least I had the freedom of feeling secure.
I shook my head to break out of my thoughts. Heading over to the workout corner of my room, I picked up my weights. I decided that since I couldn’t sleep, I might as well exercise. I started with an easier weight, then slowly progressed to heavier ones. In the same order as always, I went through each exercise. Straight arm crunches, military presses, bicycles, triceps extensions, repeat. It was the same familiar pattern that I always did, and I easily slipped into a rhythm. As my muscles started to strain, I could feel the stress leaving my body. Relief flowed through me as the exercise released the stress from my body. My worried thoughts disappeared, replaced with a sort of meditative state.
As my mind began to clear, I felt a sensation of clarity. Peace and control flooded my mind as I repeated each set of crunches. My breath became rhythmic, and it wasn’t long until I began to hear a familiar song. I felt like I’d known this song all of my life, even though I couldn’t define it. All I knew was that recently, the song had been opening things in my mind. It was as if I could believe the song, or even live it.
The more obsessed I got with this melody, the more it grew. It became a tune that I lived by. It was truth, hope for the future — it was real. I pulled up the dumbbell to my shoulder. Repeat, repeat, repeat. A single drop of sweat formed on my forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling the song pulling me along. A door appeared in my mind, and I opened it. I saw the future draped in a new light, and was filled with excitement. All fear had vanished. The world . . . was waiting for me. Calmly, full of peace and clarity, I walked through the door into the uncertain future, leaving my small room behind.