the corridors


When the corridors were empty, that was when the voices in my head became clear. Sounds from the surroundings fell deaf on my ears, muted by my sudden indifference towards this problematic place called “reality”.

I couldn’t even hear the sound of the rustling leaves and my own footsteps – messy thoughts had made everything soundless, deafening melodies of the nature from the windows.

“Say that you’re tired loud and clear.” Those words rang in my ears once again, demanding to have this frustration uttered out loud for the wind and the trees to hear.

But my lips could only quiver at the thought, face hardened for a split second to keep this smile on. For I can’t let this facade off – for I can’t let the utopia I’ve difficultly built crumble, shattered by the fact that it all has been a mere lie and that

I’m actually tired of keeping it up.

And it wouldn’t help either.

Saying that I’m actually tired doesn’t make all the problems go away.

“Just say it, admit it, and stop trying so much for others. It’s not like they appreciate it anyway,” those voices prompted. Recollection of those unjust moments went flashing through like a bad movie. What-ifs kept popping up in my head, fooling myself into believing that everything would have turned out better if I chose to do them differently.

Then I could only shake my head, forcing my ears to focus on the squeaky sound I made with my black shoes. But my mind refused to do so, thoughts were still hazy, and the corridors had become longer.. longer..


So I had halted, trying to take in everything that had happened during all those years I spent in this place – what I had experienced during the years I wore those plaid skirts and white socks. This place filled me up with dreams, yet this very place was where those dreams dimmed and forgotten.

Then I sprinted, letting these familiar walls and classrooms go blurred as I picked up my speed. Recollection of those unjust moments went flashing again, but I let my mind embrace the bad scenes and collect the beautiful specks of light within them.

Because they weren’t so bad actually.

As more of the memories started to resurface one by one, I spread my hands out like wings and looked back to see a messy painting of rainbow on my tracks – the messiness and beauty that was how it had been like all those years in this place.


Now I’m here, on the end of the corridor and right in front of the exit, about to end this journey. My hands are lingering on the handle, my eyes glancing at the corridor.

I’m about to open the door to a new journey, but I’ll never forget the corridors that I have been through.


Disclaimer: the photo belong to its respectful owner.

A/N: This actually has a different vibe, compared to the real one that I was feeling when I walked through the corridors of my school building – it was huge, and the elementary building is bridged to the high-school building. And I have been the student of this school right from the pre-school so there was really A LOT that I reminisced as I entered the empty classrooms one by one.

In these 15 years or sort of, things have changed a lot, and yeah to be honest, I couldn’t care less. But it would probably feel weird not to go to this place and meet those familiar faces on a daily basis anymore.

My graduation ceremony is to be held in May, and I’m dying to receive my examination results and get this high-school thing done as soon as possible. I’m too tired and high-school has become an expired topic for me 😀

But you know what, many people say that you’re going to miss high-school as soon as you leave, and I think I’ll be missing that some time in this long break hohohohoho


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