Paper Heart

The silence was absolute, shifting in her chair, sighing, even breathing seemed sacrilegious. It demanded her full attention to the task at hand, implicating punishment at any rejection of the allowed conformities. The cacophony of pens scratching against college ruled paper the only permitted sound. It was pathetic that an hour exam was all that she would have to show a dozen universities her aptitude. Internally agonising over the stupidity of the essay, Ayla leaned forward bowing over the blank page before her. Biting her lip she traced out the topic at the top of the page, filling in her name on the provided line. The writing course at the university had an exam audition. Tell them your life journey up to the present, why you’re worth their time; why you deserve a place in their establishment. ‘Journey,’ she tilted her head as the words settled themselves in a flowing pattern in her mind.

A quick glance around her proved that everyone else was industriously pushing their pens against paper like robots. She’d seen their essays in class, pre-approved by the teacher and unique only in the realms of their conformity. Like the rest of them she had her pre-approved list of 100 words, designed to jog her memory to the innate story she had written after facing her teacher’s disapproval at her initial ideas. Looking up at her teacher she frowned, he had told her in no uncertain terms that not only her style of writing, but her ideas were inappropriate for the essay. He’d trashed her self faith but the exam had begun and he had no power over her here.

Pulling a draft sheet of paper towards her she began to write, the words flowing across the page in a neat scrawl,
“I’ve always wanted to fly but I’m too scared of falling to ever attempt it. When you’re young you think you can do anything, you’re a superhero, a king, you’re stunningly beautiful and nothing could ever stand in your way. Then you fall and it’s not the same shallow pit you’ve hit before, it’s a ravine to the depth of your soul. You find out you’ve been lied to...”
It was her one chance to get into University; surely it deserved nothing less than the best effort she could give. Surely it was pointless to be accepted for a piece of work that, given the choice, she would never write. The disjointed words she had brought in were as empty as the soulless work they were extracted from. Writing was joy, motion, relaxation. It was a journey towards having not only your work understood but your intentions, your emotions, your basest elements exposed and recognised.

“I was so young back then. Putting the brightest butterflies in jars, only to wonder why their colours dulled and they ceased their intricate dances. I see them everywhere now, the people who look fine because fine is all they have to offer.” Ayla paused in her writing; they wanted her exposed on their marking desk, not an automated response that came from a different world than she lived in. They wanted her story, not her teachers. Regardless, the basis of the essay was to achieve the goal she’d been striving to meet her whole life. The examiner was in control of her plans for life and it was him that had to approve of the work. Her teacher had gotten dozens of students into University. She frowned, agonizing over the choice before her. Halting she put her pen to the paper.

“So desperately I want to go back to the sad little girl that wanted to fly, the girl I used to be and tell her the truth. I want to tell her that the chains keeping her from flying are made of dust, that as soon as she decides to fly she will rise up to dizzying heights.”
She bit her lip; it was exactly how she felt about life, her journey, going to this university. Going to this university was her dream; she could see her whole life before her. She wanted to fly, after all these years that dream hadn’t changed.

Her heart stopped as her throat closed over, picking up her draft with shaking fingers, the paper crumpling under the weight of her grasp. It was only to get in she told herself. They’re just words. She scoffed; even to herself the lie fell flat. She shook the thought away. When she ‘made it’ she would never compromise herself for someone else approval she averred. Never conform for the sake of conformity alone.

Another empty promise shattered and fell to the cluttered floor of her soul. Wincing imperceptivity, she crumpled her heart into a worthless ball of paper and pulled the exam towards her. The lifeless words dropping automatically to the paper.

“You could say I’ve had a lucky life till now. I come from a good family and Mum’s motto has always been that those who strive, succeed. This has become my life standard too. Life is not about whom you are but what you can bring. True happiness…”