Freedom

Freedom

By: Megan Davis

Chapter 1

It’s 10 am on a Friday and I’m sitting in my history class counting down the minutes until I can finally escape this classroom. Listening to Mr. Smith yammer on about 1913 is like sitting on a pile of nails. It’s extremely painful. The walls are suffocating me as I sit here, slowly coming in closer and closer.

High school is a prison. Somewhere you are forced to go. I feel like a bird being released from its cage at night only to be taken hostage again the next day. And the cycle seems to be never ending. At least that's the way I feel. I have always felt this way. I love the learning part of school, but the talking part, I was never good at. When I was four years old, I didn't say a single word in school. Being painfully shy, going to school was never easy for me. And the game was always changing.

As you move up the ladder in school the kids only seem to get meaner and meaner. As soon as you start to feel comfortable in the environment, the next year you are thrown into a completely different jungle gym, where the toys become sharper. And changing schools is a whole new ballgame. While change can be good, it doesn’t mean it comes easy. Especially to me.

Now, nearing the time of my release date, the real world doesn't seem as scary. Its extremely vast and there's the possibility of getting lost, but at least I won't be stuck somewhere I don't want to be. For the first time I can make my own decisions. Of course it doesn't seem like there is a choice when it comes to going to college, but college is a choice. If I want to be thrown into that world, that's up to me.

People make it seem like if you don't go to college you are throwing your life away. I am here to prove those people wrong. I’m not saying I’ll never go to college, but for right now, I want to use my wings. After my whole life of having no wings, I want to test them out. If I get lost, I’ll find my own way home.

New Chapter

In my last moments as a student in high school, I watch as the clock hand slowly ticks by until finally it hits three o'clock and the bell rings. This is the last time I ever have to listen to that insipid sound. But, today I was actually elated to hear it. It was the sound of freedom. Never again will I be trapped in this prison. I will be free from the limiting walls of this building.

My best friend Sarah nudges me and says excitedly, “Can you believe we survived high school?” She said it figuratively of course, but I honestly didn't know if I would survive. This was the longest four years of my life. The hardest four years. There were times I was so depressed that I literally couldn't even get out of bed to go to school. Being severely introverted, I didn't have the easiest time in high school. Lunch sucked. Class sucked. Life sucked. Until I got home. When I was safe in my bed with my cat by my side, then life was okay, until the next day rolled around. But I just said with a smile, “No, I can’t believe it.”

Students around me are screaming and it’s almost like a High School Musical moment, except for nobody is singing of course. I feel a weight lift off of me and felt almost as if I could fly. This must be how a bird feels after it's been released from its cage. No more limits. Free.

The whole college thing stresses me out. Choosing a college, choosing a major. I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet. I don’t think anyone does. I thought about this a lot and decided that a gap year would probably be the right choice for me. I mean, I have applied to colleges and even was accepted into some of them, but I don’t feel like college is right for me. At least right now. It’s weird because everyone I know is going straight to college because that's what they have been told to do. It’s possible that's their dream, but it's never been mine.

Ever since childhood we are asked the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” So then we answer with something made up, or maybe you are the 1 percent of people who actually knew what you wanted to do with your life at age five. I certainly did not. I would always say “Doctor” because that seems like a good job to have, and it was a “successful job. The more I’ve thought about this question the more I realize how crazy it is. We are asked this question when we don’t even know ourselves who we are yet.

New Chapter

The silence at the dinner table felt like a knife slowly twisting into my stomach so I decided to break the silence. I think now would be a good opportunity to tell my mom that I’m not planning to go to college right after I graduate high school. I know what her reaction will be but I have to tell her at some point and she seemed to be in a better mood today than usual. I took a deep breath and felt the knife twisting in deeper.

Mom is sitting across from me slowly picking at the rice that's left on her plate. “Hey mom?” “Yes?” she said in a worried tone. “I have decided to take a year off of school before going to college. It's called a gap year.” My mother looked at me with a shocked look on her face. “You have to go to college, Madelyn. If you don’t go now then you never will.” She stood up and took her plate over to the sink. The goosebumps that were once on my arm have disappeared, and I feel the heat rising to the surface. “Yes I will. Why do you always doubt me?” At this point she was so focused on washing the dishes it seemed as if she was ignoring me. She stood there scrubbing the plate and then dropped it in the sink. She whipped her head around and yelled “It’s just not an option okay? End of discussion.” But this was not the end of the discussion and we both knew it. I stood up from the table and stormed upstairs.

New Chapter later on in the Book

I step into my car and suddenly feel a million butterflies fluttering around inside of my stomach. Mom is standing on the porch waving goodbye with tears in her eyes, acting like I am never going to make it back. I am on my own. The thought scared me. I pull out of the driveway and wonder if there is a reason why my mom looked so worried. Then I thought, she’s always worried. I start to notice everything that I no longer pay attention to in my town. The park bench with an elderly couple sitting together. A middle aged woman walking her teacup chihuahua. The stop sign that has written on it STOP (drinking cow's milk.) The little things that give character to my town that I would forget to notice. For the first time I am going somewhere new. Somewhere where I will see the parts of someone else's town. Alone. That’s the scary part. I wondered if I could do it. I wondered if my mom was right in being so worried about me. I suddenly had this huge cloud of doubt hanging over my head and felt that at any moment it would burst. I tried to remember why I am doing this in the first place. And that's when it hit me. The black Suburban. At first I didn't realize what had just happened. It all happened so fast, but at the same time it felt like I was trying to swim through a pool of maple syrup. I hear a lady scream. “Oh my God! Are you okay?” At this point I didn't know, but I mutter, “Yeah I’m fine.” My head is pounding from the impact of it slamming against the window and out of the corner of my eye, I see some slivers of broken glass inside of my car.

I am not fine. I am supposed to be catching a flight to Switzerland in a few hours. I feel the tears start to fill my eyes as I realize I would not be making that flight. My mom was right. I wasn't ready. I can’t even make it to the airport.

This is my first car accident. Probably not surprising since I’m only 18 years old but all I could think about was that I was going to miss that stupid flight. My flight to freedom. Of all the times to get into a car accident, it had to be now. The lady says “I’m going to call the ambulance, okay?” “Okay.” I said. I look out of my broken window at her car. The front piece of her car is on the ground and the exhaust is spilling out into the atmosphere. I had the green light. She was the one who ran into me. This isn't that bad of a situation besides the fact that I should be at the airport. Instead I’m stuck in my car for who knows how long. I hear the sirens of the ambulance. Why are there sirens? It's not like this is an emergency. I then noticed the blood dripping down my arm. Okay maybe it is. I prepare myself for what I will have to say to my mother. Already she's worried about me, what will she think now? The ambulance pulls up beside the lady’s beat up black Suburban. I try to take a breath, but the air has escaped me.

A burly man steps out of the truck and walks toward my car with a clipboard. Nothing good ever comes when someone is holding a clipboard. That means there will be questions and without any air I don’t think I can talk. He says, “Are you hurt?” That's the most stupid question in the world he could be asking me right now. Of course I am. I just got hit by a car. I don’t know what to say so I force out, “I’m fine” with the remaining breath in my lungs. The last thing I want to do right now is go to the hospital. He says, “I’m going to have to take you to the hospital to make sure of that. Do you have someone you can call?” I think of how my mother will react. She will be even more furious at me than she is already. “Yeah, my mom.”

I picked up the phone off of the seat covered with glass. I feel a piece slice across my finger. That's nothing compared to how I’m going to feel after telling my mom what just happened. The corner of the screen of my phone is shattered with the glass exposed. I press the home button, somewhat relieved that it works and also somewhat terrified of what was going to happen next. She answers. “Hey! I’m so glad to hear from you! Did you make it to the airport?” “Hi mom… Everything is fine, but I got into a car accident.” “What!? Are you okay?” Yeah, they are just taking me to the hospital to make sure.” She says with panic in her voice, “I’m on my way now. I’ m so glad you are okay.”

New Chapter

The drive home from the hospital was silent. It was the uncomfortable kind of silence. The kind of silence you don't want to be in with your mother. Once we arrived home I told mom that I was tired and that I was going to bed. All she could say was “Okay goodnight honey.”

The next morning I suddenly feel the impact of the crash. I can hardly move, I’m so sore. I think of all the possible things that mom could say to me and the more I thought about it, the more I felt glued to the sheets. I slowly peel myself out of bed and make it down the stairs. Mom is sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee. She says, “Good morning, how are you feeling?” Like I got hit by a car. “I’m sore.” Then she says, “Don’t you think this is a sign that you shouldn't be going anywhere by yourself yet?” I knew she would turn this into a lesson.