A different mind part one

Reads: 294  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short story that is still being written, about how a person with a different mind sees the world. Talking about how they developed and the masks formed to survive life as well as their imaginations

Submitted: June 21, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 21, 2015

A A A

A A A


Sometimes it is hard to image what is truly going on inside the minds of those whom over time have developed a mask of which to wear upon the outside. This is a story of which bares truths as well as fantasy, for people that live in the truest of imagination it is a far cry more better than reality at times.
Growing up a child is taught and they are to learn as they grow, but in so growing and learning we believe that the child is supposedly prepared for the real world. But somewhere upon that journey from childhood to adulthood we often lose our sense of wonder, our sense of imagination and awe.
As I grew up I was not overly spoiled, I lived with my Mother and older sister. Our father out of the picture only to be heard about from stories of my Mother or my older sister. For most this would be a sad thing to think of some may think it is good. Personally I grew up in an environment of hate towards a man that I never met, it is strange but I do not feel anything towards a figure that I never met or knew, and so the first layer of the mask was created. Creating a level of hate to be accepted and also to give a way to form a bond with those of my family, I would say I hated him I would break his arms or whatever my mind decided to make a link to being angry or aggressive at the time towards this figure. So it was the same at school I would carry that mask with me, that mask teaching me that if someone does something extremely wrong in the eyes of others we should hate them without question or without a second thought on the matter.
As my learning developed it showed I was different, it showed how I could concentrate on one task on one thing that truly caught my attention. At this point in time it was time travel, I know strange for a child to be fascinated by such a thing but you have to know that watching back the future gave me such a avid passion towards this. I would build a time machine out of Lego, bricks and other parts. And this is perhaps the first time I began to stretch my imaginations. I could see myself there activating the machine and going back, a whirling vortex around me watching as I was thrown through time and space itself to land in the same place. No one knew who I was but I had knowledge they didn’t, I knew of the future I knew how to make everything right. What was coming and what would do wrong, running from that school escaping my teachers, as I slide under a desk as they were too large and too slow to do such a thing as stop me I bolted towards the door…….was the door closed or was the door open ? That would be the question that would pop to mind, did I need to push the catch on the door, and was it a fire escape? Or was I going to run through the door to the corridor and make my way to the main entrance of the school and escape that way? Or perhaps I would use the side door used for school breaks to access the playground and escape that way?. It would be at this moment I would have to stop thinking on such a thing, reality coming back telling me I was day dreaming, but I was aware of what was going on, perhaps not totally but in part. Though the teachers would never see things as such, they would only care about you reading the next line of a book, solving your times tables or drawing something. But why we had to do that over being allowed a moment to think and dream I do not know. With experience over the years perhaps I can now validly see their point of view that I would never have learned anything, but perhaps I could have learned more. L
Day in and day I out for hours on end I would go through these scenarios in my mind, which door to take if I travelled in time, what would the consequences be of that, would I bump into someone else, would I see someone else that would help me ? Could I make my mother understand what was to come perhaps? 
Regardless of all of that time progressed and I learned then another layer to place upon my outer self, the mask of which to fain a level of interest as it would stop someone shouting at you or saying you were wrong. When you are told you are wrong at a young age the adults believe that it is a teaching experience but to a degree it is also shaming even as a child, you are unable no matter how hard you try to find the logic to break their logic, they are stone walls to your splashes of water your trying to fight back against them with. At least as a child that was what it was like for me.
But time continued by and those imaginations of time travel started to fade followed by other interests, usually at that time an interest that someone else had, but there was a drive behind it as well to learn it. It could be something as simple as knowing all the power rangers names and the colours of their uniforms, or being able to sing line for line the words to a song. For me though singing was never something I enjoyed publically I knew I could not sing, even when those of my family would tell me otherwise. All I would get would be awww it’s cute, or aww that’s sweet. That was their way of telling me that because I was a member of their family and I was a child that instantly I could sing great and wonderfully. But I had seen this with other parents and their children, parents that would say how wonderful their little Emma was at singing or how great Timmy was at the recorder. I don’t know what they were listening to or heard but that was not good, it was awful. The children that ate up what their parents fed them about singing and how they should project their voices would end up half shouting, their mouths missing teeth’s that had fallen out. Having to sit in assembles and listen to them trying to sing out was nails on the chalkboard for me. Making it feel as though someone was torturing me, such a boring thing to be put through and listen to.
In response to this I placed my fingers in my ears, and there it was, quite, silence for the most part other than the muffled sounds of what was going on in the background. Closing my eyes I was taken away to seeing the same room that I was sat crossed legged in, rising up to my feet seeing the teachers reactions as I would sing back in return, sing wonderfully with the voice that no angel could match, the most incredible sound………though funny I never really heard the voice of what I was singing I just remember the reactions. The look astonishment on the faces of those around me, the almost WOW factor and th……..that would be when I felt the tap on my shoulder, a teacher glaring at me. Being taking to one side and told how rude I was, how disrespectful I was and how I should be listening to this person singing and I should be impressed with their bravery and talent and to behave from now on. Also then as well on top of all of that I had to put my name on the board. Let me explain this, if your name is on the board then you lost ten minutes from your break and would have to stay behind and help the teacher tidy up or just sit there, if you were bad again you had your name then under lined this added another 10 minutes on, the most you could get would be three and after that. Well as they teachers put it you would not want to know what happened after that !.
Puzzled with why it was alright then for me to suffer at the sounds of the same tone every child that age made when trying to sing and being board out my skull and not being disruptive and only wanting to be in my own world I accepted it and went to put my name on the board. I would never do that again, the teachers told me it was bad, so it was obviously bad I would never do that again. Later it was to be proven wrong I would do it again, but in a different way.

As the day continued on I remember feeling the first layer of that mask kicking in, this person had wronged me and got into trouble because they had been singing so it was obviously their fault and they needed to be punished for it like I got punished for doing something bad. That is what was done right?
So during that ten minutes of which I had to stay behind I went to the toilet, I grabbed the girls drinks bottle and dropped a bar of soap into it, securing it closed again before replacing it back


© Copyright 2019 Airis. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments