Who am I supposed to be?

 Hey everyone!
I hope you're doing fine and staying safe. I wrote this story for a contest but since I didn't win, I wanted to post it here and share it with all of you. I haven't written many stories like this one so, I'm still learning. I would much appreciate your criticisms and advice so don't hesitate to comment since I'm still figuring out this style of writing. So now, without further ado, this is the final piece. Hope you like it and don't forget to share my website.
Byeee.

                                               Who am I supposed to be?

                                                                            by Thea L.

‘Hate. Disappointment. Envy’ 

   Tears were running down my face as I slammed the door locking myself in my room. I wanted to scream and punch the wall. Who were they to tell me what I can be; what I will be? I sat on the floor sobbing. “God, I’m pathetic” I thought as I grabbed a tissue. I took a deep breath and scanned my bedroom. I remembered the day I decorated the walls, how I stole a roll of tape and started sticking different photos on them. I remembered cutting out the Hamilton logo and proudly hanging it above my stacked bookshelf. That day, I promised myself that I was going to change. I was going to follow my passion and not care about anything else. I smile sadly. I have always kept all my promises. Except this one. I chuckle ironically. What is wrong with me? 

   I stand up, wipe my face with a quick gesture and reach for the doorknob. I stop right before touching it. The door is the gate between a hopeful teenage dream and an obscure reality. I close my eyes for one last time. As I stand there, in front of the barrier that have protected me from harsh, cold words and every single privileged smile I had to endure, I feel a lazy breeze drifting across the room. It tickles me playfully and I shrug my shoulders shivering. With my mind’s eye, I can see the backlit shadow of an unknown entity. Staring in the darkness, I sense the entity coming closer. It appears to be almost like a new version of myself. I am almost able to feel the confident steps hitting the black floor of my mind. I have the urge to extend my arm and shake the silhouette’s hand. Who is she?  I want to meet her. I want to talk to her and listen to her amazing stories. I want to be her.  I am in love with a false-image of what I could’ve been; with a dream I can’t quite hold. I suddenly, remember what my best friend used to tell me. “Sometimes, we fall in love with a fantasy we create when the reality doesn’t let us be who we crave to be.”. When I first heard that phrase, I chuckled and thanked her shyly. Soon, those words started haunting me almost like a subconscious thought which just escaped. What if I am blinded by my own ego? What if my fear of failure doesn’t let me see what was really behind all those beautifully stitched lies? I need an idea; something to redeem all those empty thoughts.  

   I nod my head and smile at the silhouette. I am sure she’ll always be there to show me what I can be. I finally open my eyes. I open the door and enter the chaos in my house.  As soon as step into the living room, multiples questions are shot at me simultaneously. “Did you take out the garbage?”;” Have you finished studying?”; “Did you speak with that teacher?”. I turn around and whisper a “I’m going out with Sofia.”. I grab my coat, put on my mask and plug in my earphones. I pick my “S.” playlist, which consists only on sad Broadway songs, and let myself carried away by Christian Borle’s voice. Every single human finds a way to escape from whatever happens around them. I used to spend a lot of time finding my getaway. But when I first listened to a musical, I knew I will always choose running away in a world where words land in a perfect picture almost like Tetris pieces, instead of talking to someone else. All I have to do is to mute all the other noises focus on the lyrics. I’m a fast learner, so I know most songs by heart. The words connect like some well-placed clues in an intricate game. And I choose to play this game every time I need to break free.  

   As I walk down the street, I recite the words without thinking too much. I walk on the paved sidewalk with the rhythm of the song leading my steps. I am finally alone in the logical, free world I have worked so hard to create, when a group of teenagers catches my attention. I look at them furtively. They are obviously talking about something rather inappropriate. They are laughing hysterically at what appears to be the best joke they have ever heard. Their smiles are violent and yet, full of life. My social life has always been a mess. I never cared what other people think of me. But to be fair, I actually used that mask every time I cared too much. And those teenagers seem so free and full of life it almost hurts me. I don’t want to be their friend. I want to be them. I want to have their confidence and their villainous smile. But I can’t because "I don’t know to live my life.”; or at least that’s what my acquaintances say.  And they’re probably right. I never experienced ‘life’. I don’t think I did. I always choose to agree with them but every time I think about it more than five seconds, I start doubting their confidence.  How do they know what living your life means? “Because they do.” says a voice in my head. So, I close the argument, for the moment. I take a one last look at what I’ll never be. I bite my lip nervously. I often have the strange feeling that everyone around me is sleeping. I try to ask questions but nobody answers. I sometimes feel cold shadows trying to talk to me into getting rid of my thoughts. And when I finally close my eyes, I get stuck in different dimensions of a dull nightmare. In these dreams, everyone seems to enjoy everything around them. I run towards them and they greet me with greedy and uncaring smiles. I get lost in their empty eyes and soulless lies. I pretend to laugh, I tell jokes, listen to their misguided problems and give colourless pieces of advice. But when I start talking about myself, they all stand up and gently wave me goodbye. They leave saying meaningless things, looking at each other, laughing at the best joke. I look away. I wasn’t built to break. And then, the idea hits me. I chuckle. I even smile. “They are not a part of their dream either. They are just pretending.” 

   I spot Sofia on an isolated bench. I run towards her but as soon as I realise, she’s having her headphones plugged in, I come up with a plan to scare her. I squat behind the bench and poke her shoulder with my finger. She startles and greets me swearing under her breath. I sit next to her waiting for the song to end. As I fangirl over the last guitar solo, I see her standing up and starting strolling around. I roll my eyes and go after her without getting the chance to finish my imaginary solo.  

“Where are we going?” I ask.   

   She looks around and I can sense her look analysing every single detail. My phone buzzes unexpectedly and as I check the new message, I hear Sofia mumbling something. I download the photo sent by my brother. It’s a picture with a book accompanied by the caption: ”You’re welcome, sis.” I guess my ‘fantastic’ behaviour as a sister finally paid off. I turn around to show Sofia the message but she’s obviously gone. I scan the area confused and I see her standing on the other side of the crosswalk already waiting for me. I drag myself to the finish point. “Great, you made it.” she says. “So, where are we going?”. She scratches her head and then walks away, again. ‘I see you, I hear you... moving on’ is my move. I hate when she does it to me. I know no one can hear me but I still choose to grunt; just for dramatizing things a bit.  I try to keep up with her but she has certainly no intention in waiting for me. She always pushes me to do things I wouldn’t normally do, but for some reason I still follow her, always. “Where...” “Can you shut up for just one second?” She often looks at me like she is about to kill someone. And I know that the particular ‘someone’ is me. As I walk quietly beside her, I don’t pay attention to my surroundings. I don’t have to. Sofia is there and this means I don’t have to worry about something else other than my steps. The world around me melts away as I begin to hum a melody. I’m not sure when I started working on this particular song. The only thing I’m absolutely certain of is that it has been stuck in my head for a while now. I let my mind follow this never-ending loop of notes that have formed my very first song. I feel the excitement in my bones. I have just created something without being afraid; without feeling trapped. I often feel like I commit such felony  by not exploring my teenage life. But now I feel free and safe. Maybe I am exploring my life. Maybe... 

“It’s nice.” says Sofia. 

“What.” 

“The song you’re humming you weirdo.” 

“Oh... Thanks.” 

“You should do something with it.” 

“Yeah... I guess I should.” 

“Come on Shakespear. We have arrived at our destination, m’lady.”  

   I punch her arm and wait for her comeback. To my surprise, she just stands there looking at the forsaken wooden park. I vaguely remember this place. Something tells me I have known this park for quite some time. I’m always confused by my own childhood memories. I have never been able to set apart my real memories by other people’s stories about me. Once I hear a story about my childhood, something in me makes it feel real for me. It enters my head like an intruder and convinces my mind that I do remember that story. So, I don’t know if I really know this place. But it feels disturbingly familiar. And suddenly, I am overwhelmed by a warm feeling of happiness and reminiscence. ‘Memories. Joy. Childhood. My brother.’ I look around me. I see the sun hiding behind the trees’ leaves and feel a mellow breeze tingling my hands. I take a glimpse of the playground. Maybe I do remember this place. As I close my eyes, one memory takes over my entire mind. The images are blurry and full of light. But I still distinguish my brother running around wearing his Spiderman t-shirt. He is gesticulating lively as he explains the rules for a game he just invented. He uses a lot of sound effects and quick hand waves. Let me rephrase. He doesn’t use a lot of sound effects. ‘Just the right amount’. He then brings a football ball and teaches me how to execute a perfect kick. ‘A kick known only by me, the greatest football player, and now... you.’ I remember taking the ball and just kicking it as hard as I could. ‘That’s the move. But slightly... harder. It’s ok for an average player.’. Was he disappointed? ‘Hey... hey... it’s alright. You have to work hard to get to my level. But you will. I promise.’.  

I smile. I open my eyes.  

“I want to teach you something.” I say as I punch my friend’s arm. 

“Wait.. What... Nath? Where are you going?” she asks. 

I know exactly where I’m going. I take a fallen apple and place it on the ground. ‘Perfect’. I grab Sofia’s arm and plant her right in front of the fruit. 

“Nath... I don’t have time for this.” 

“Come on, just pay attention.” I say as I arrange the ‘ball’. 

“I have something to tell you.” 

“After I...” 

“I lost the competition." she yells 

   I just stand there looking at her; waiting for the punchline of the joke. She's looking at her shoes trying to find something to do with her hands. It has to be a joke. I want this to be a joke. 

“What happened?” 

“I got second place. I don’t know what happened. I was so sure... I... I don’t know what to do.” 

“You still have the other contest. You have one more week to prepare.” 

She laughs sadly. “The other contest is tomorrow. And I’m not going.” 

She is obviously disappointed. Why? I know I’m not. I won’t let her give up.  

“You have to go.” 

“No. I don’t have to. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe the others are right. Maybe I should leave these behind and go ‘live my life’.”  

“You know what?” I have a million things to say but it’s like I can’t form the right sentences. ‘C’mon brain. This is not the time for a contemplation. Say something!’ 

“You’re living your life perfectly.” And as soon as I vocalise this sentence, everything become clear. Every doubt; every bad thought; every reproach fade into thin air. All the villainous smiles disappear behind the truth. Too many words intrude my mind. ‘Knowledge. Friendship. Joy. Moon. Stars. Disappointment. Books. My brother. Tea. Hate. My family. My favourite movie. Envy. Musicals. Sun. Music. Sky... Life.’  

“Screw it. I’m living my life perfectly.” 

Sofia smiles and this makes me to continue. 

“They’re lost. We are living our lives exactly as we should. I am here. You are here. I just remembered one of my favourite lost memories. I talked to my parents this morning. I walked listening to musicals. I created a new awful song. I followed you to a raggedy park. I heard your voice. I got a text from my brother. The other day I invented a word. I get to see you smiling right now. Are you crazy? The only thing wrong with you is the fact that you are believing those sleepwalkers, those human ghosts with their important jokes and illiterate false sparks of joy. Look around you. Who are they to tell you what is life? It’s yours and only yours. We have the privilege to own our lives. And that means everything, Sofia. Everything. We have to live it. And we have to live it now. Right now.” 

She smiles. She lets go a laugh.  

“So... I guess I’m going to the contest tomorrow. What do I do then?” 

“You execute a perfect kick.” 

“Nath... I’m not playing football at that contest.” She says laughing. “What’s a perfect kick anyway?” 

“A perfect kick it’s when you hit the ball as hard as you can without caring about anything else.” 

“And you know how to do it?” 

“No. But I’m learning... And that’s alright.” 

“I’m sure you’ll soon master it.” 

   We both burst into laughter. Who are we? I bet that we don’t know. Maybe we will never find out. We are ordinary people. We try too hard. We laugh. We forget how to forgive. We always remember how to hurt. We love. We explore. We live. We are special. We are exactly what we are supposed to be.