1998 School Magazine

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61r1545rammar ^iconol a!artsbane 1998

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UGHT

Qinetimes I wonder what it would feel like to be light. Perhaps it would feel like I was floating. Sometimes, when I dream it, I'm up in the clouds, surrounded by nothing but sunshine and breezes, looking down on all the others, still chained to the ground. Mum Lised to say that staying light was all a matter of self-control. But even she didn't know the true meaning of that. Even she is against me now - too weak I suppose. From here the pure white ceiling seems almost heavenly - the blue of walls carries me up to my dream - but only in my mind That is whatlwrote last night whenlwas in one of my deep and thoughtful moods. I don't get like that very often, only after Mum has been to visit. Last night she was in one of bermoods again. Asking all her questions. Then she wailed and cried until the warden told net she should go home to get some sleep. She doesn't understand. Neither do I really. And I can't answer her questions. I can't even answer my own The ceiling light has started flickering again. it is driving me crazy already. On and off and on and off. Dark then light, all the while with a high pitched bLizz, as if someone is trying to discreetly cut a hole in the ceiling with a power-saw From what I wrote before, yoLi must think I live in some sort of a divine chamber. But really it's just an ordinary room, I suppose. Except that it is my prison. I sometimes think of painting some black stripes on those innocent walls, like bars At least then it would look right to me. I suppose I should be used to this by now though. EQi. the past two years, my life has been about moving from one prison to another I sometimes imagine Iny life as a thin sheet of glass. Or ice Appearing sturdy, but cracking willT each heavy footfall of fate, and eventually shattering Linder the strain. I thought I had what I wanted once, but I didn't realise just what that was Lintil long afteiwards. Everything seemed to change so qt!ickly. People around me began to change Their eyes were what hurt 111e the ITiost. Bright, white, perfect eyes glaiing in alitTe. All night and allday - peering into my private world. I felt like an actor, on stage 24/10/11s a day The neat of the sportiglit Inade nie feel faint, but I 11acl to Iteep playing tlTeii' game - their way. Because they were always watching. I still feel their eyes on lite now. I still feel that glaring white silence But my thoughts are broken by nightmatislt noise. Chug chtig chicka-chicka KILink. The sound of that feaifLil dial witli its ITUmbei's is willI 111e in eveiy conscious tliing that I do. Even before the warden collTes to wake 11\e, I can ITear that ITorrible sound. it echoes down the nanway like the footsteps of a would-be ITTLirdei'er, lingei'ing long afteiwa!'ds in the itTind of his victim. inside my loonT the silence is cut. The clock on the wall grinds its every second, then moves on with a klunl< that beats in time willI itIy lieaw lieait. The ritual begins soon afteiwaids

Every morning it's the same. I don't know why they insist on it They place me on that platform like a side of beef. As if to say "Look! Look how much fatter you've become! " Then they lecture me about how I'm doing. Usually not well, they say. As if I'm some sort of pathetic invalid - sick in the head or something. I despise it like nothing else. Walking down that hallway, I always feel as if I am going to my execution. in a way, I am. The wardens say this is all in my head, so perhaps this small death is what makes me so unwell. They say I'm getting thinner again, but they don't understand. They are trying to trick me again. They are trying to making me gorge myself like they do - to lose the self control I have held onto for so long now I don't know what I'd do if Ien weren'I around. Ien is always with me. She is my best friend. My only friend, really We have been together for years now. At school we were inseparable. I went to her house every weekend. I shared everything with he I'. Things are different now - she comes to me But we are still one. Sometimes, when we are together, I think I hear a whisper from her lips that she will save me. That one day we will leave this place together. But she always goes without me. Yet still I dream in my dream, I'm above all the chains, but at midday, I am kept securely in them. I long for the nights, when I can fly and rise Lip and float above it all. Every day, with the sounds of the morning still resonating in the back of my mind, I begin to hear another noise. Another terrible sound which penetrates my eveiy thought. A squeaky whine that seems designed to mimic the very memories, which wait in my mind. And which wait with the anticipation of soon being joined by another just as horrible Mum dreads this time as inLich as I do. She tries to avoid it. But I can't. When I hear LITe sound, I feel numb. Eveiy sense in my body is switched off, except for. my hearing. it remains with brazen clarity as if to laugh at the others, which bow to it helplessly. The cart rolls closer, and the intensity incl. eases, and grows with a late that is born terrifyingIy rapid and tediously drawn out. EventLially, itTy turn comes. Another' sense rejoins my ITalf-dead body as 11\e pungent smell of potato and cream and fat reaches 111e. Once nLimb, I now feel a tingling all ovei', born inside and out. Taste creeps fearfully back, then at once wishes to retreat again, 11a\, ing lasted the sickness WITich already lises milly throat. Last of allniy signtis restoi'ed, and Isee before me the plate, neaped witli the food of a frightened existence - the SIIstenance whirlT feeds greed and starves self-discipline They force itTe to feed at the 110ugh. WITen I refuse, they thread 111e 111uck Into me. Wlieii Mtini can bring lieiself to be TITere, she holds it\y nand. I know its ITard for ITer, but I ITave no sympathy SITe is the one WITo broLighi Ine liere I thinl< it all changed for Muii\ about a year ago. Suddenly eveiything became 11\ore real for' lier. it was one in o1'rimg tliat it allchanged in ITerittind. litad been oLit running. Ien was witli me at first, then even she left, and I was alone. But I kept 1.30