Inside the room filled with crowded students, you'll come to notice how there are various groups and individuals who happen to be special in their own ways the moment the professor steps out. One would be a group of students who were captivated by digital entertainment, while others would be found in the corner of the room, a book in their hands. Their eyes are solely focused on each text inside, letting themselves enter a different world—far from reality.
On the left side, you'll find students who have blankets and pillows, finally getting the rest they deserve, while on the right side is where some students are in a joyful state, chattering like active squirrels in the daylight.
'’Truly a lively and comforting classroom,’' is what you will think. It is indeed comforting—the optimism of people around there is truly admirable. It’s soothing to watch and observe their behavior, realizing some silly yet unique trademarks that stand out. The strengths and weaknesses you may find yourself noticing within the classroom you're in.
You set these thoughtful inner voices aside before you finally leave. Sometimes, being a watcher doesn't fully give a connection to the ones in the play. With your not-so-nice skills of blending in or socializing, you’ve grown used to the solace that you, yourself, provide.
“Wishing the school year ends” is what you find yourself whispering in the wind before you step downstairs and head to your first mind palace. On the right side of the area, you'll find your own mind palace—where you tend to test or sometimes rest your brain. Take the leisure time to cope with the loneliness you sometimes feel before going back to working with your mountain of schoolwork.
Your own mind palace is what you call it, despite it being a place everyone can enter.
You find yourself looking in your throne—your usual favorite spot—after placing your bag down. You walk around, eyes scanning the old yet well-kept books on the shelves. It’s like searching for a diamond in the caves as you try to get to the narrow back of the shelf, removing them one by one only to scan which would hook your interest. You even scowl at some moments when you notice how the book's cover already reveals the story, or when the condition of the book makes you wonder who dared to use it so carelessly. After picking the book that seems fine to read, you'll go back to your throne, letting your mind wander once again.
“Wishing the school year ends,” you mutter to yourself the same words as you find the gears so still inside of your head. Sometimes, you wonder whether they’re simply getting rusty or malfunctioning. When this happens, you shut down your machine for a moment, taking a deep, long breath as you let the cold air greet you—along with the scent of the ink of the old books that surrounds you inside this little room.
Later, you step outside your palace to climb up. In the upper curved corner of the stairs, there's a spacious spot. You stare at it as you find yourself reminiscing how you and the others tended to sleep in that corner and review before the terrifying exams those days—days you were more productive than now. Moments that have never been done once again for so long.
Lastly, you walk to the left path, only to meet the hallway corner again. The gate acts like a wall but also a large window, allowing the trees outside to greet you, swaying and dancing in the soft, gentle breeze.
You finally sit in your usual spot, leaning your back on the wall, placing down your bag that had become your treasure chest. Memories begin flooding your mind as you remember how your friend once said how the floor smells like stinky feet, yet still falling asleep peacefully out of tiredness. During those times, you'd find yourself slowly relaxing, even while busy reviewing the reports for your next class.
“Wishing the school year end,” you think once again, but this time with a soft smile curved in your lips. Letting yourself bask in the comfort of the gentle rustling of leaves, you find yourself lost in deep thought.
Along the way, you realize something. It's silly how often you wish for time to pass by. How easy it is for you to wish for every class to end just so you can finally go home. How easy for you to wish for the school year to end because of the stress from all your loaded tasks. How easy it is to wish for it to end each time you’re caught off guard by your exhaustion, only to be bothered by the noises inside your head, telling you how lonely you are.
Yet deep in your core, you also find yourself not wanting the school year to end. Outside this school is where the darkness lurks. Outside, you'll find yourself more bound as you try to thrive. Outside, expectations grow heavier as you’re expected to be fully ready the moment you step out.
Deep inside, you'll miss those faces you've silently admired in class. The memories made inside every corner of the four-walled room. The experiences, lessons, and even the stories you’ve come to hear and learn. The little moments that made you giggle. The joyful, blooming laughter when the class became entertaining. The quiet joy in knowing that someone noticed your existence, even if for a very short time.
Perhaps, as much as you wanted to step out of the door and wish for the school year to end quickly, you’re just hoping—perhaps— for someone or something, anyone or anybody, to pull you back inside. To remind you that “you will also be missed, just like how we’ll all miss these moments once the school year ends.”
Article by: Ms. Hannah Jane Malate (The Catalyst Literary Writer)