And Then There was Hope

Like the rooster that crowed for his forebears, the alarm wails its shrieking cry, sending dread through the boy’s body. In his drowsy stupor, he shuts up the contemptible thing and makes a pitiful effort to extract himself from bed. Laying there, he asked himself; to whom was he obligated to wake up and continue his day? For what reason did he bind himself in the chains of routine? To himself, and no one else, for the sake of the mind, and no other, he responded. With a sigh and a sliver of sorrow, he awoke in earnest.

After the usual daily prep, he departed home and proceeded to the bus, late by several minutes running, causing his breakfast to travel higher up his throat. Being tardy had become somewhat of a habit for him, and he felt a mixture of disappointment and acceptance filling his chest.

Reaching his destination, he exits the bus and walks toward school. A strange school it was, the boy thought. It sulked like a willow tree, seeming exhausted and anguished, as if it had never felt a moment of repose. Its walls were bleak like bones in a desert, and litter strewn across the ground like garments in a messy room. It called for help in vain, for its cries were met with apathy, the boy thought.

In class, he sat alone, an island avoided by all, a place of seclusion where the unsightly were locked away to spare others interaction with such pariahs like himself. But the boy preferred this. He understood that he did not match well with the others and did not require their companionship. Yet he longed for understanding, so inside him was much turmoil, as he had never found such an individual who could, however real their existence. Such a person existed, of that he was sure, but it did not prevent the imminent despair he felt, that he would never find them, and he would forever reside in a sea of ignorance.

As dusk departed the horizon, the boy sat in his room, a quiet introspection filling his mind. In this state of heightened contemplation, a great depression, vehement and seething like vitriol, racked his being.

He saw no future,
And no past.
The present nothing but a state of mind,
For we are dead.
Fear controlled them,
Rage blinded them,
Hate fueled them,
Ignorance condemned them.
Man is misery.
There is no hope.

Yet he saw a future,
Made by the progenies of our species.
A past,
From which to learn.
The present a reality,
That is life.
Ignorance condemned them,
Until they saw the truth.
Fear swept away with aplomb,
Rage doused with calm,
Hate subsided with love.
Man became joy.
And then there was hope.

And then there was hope.