lifes learnings-my 11th grade paper

My story is not about one experience. In fact, the incident holds no importance to me at all but, it changed my future completely. It happened this past summer. My family had rented a condo at the beach beside my best friend Haley and her family. We had been there a few days, during which I reclusively stayed in my room. The whole time I had this feeling looming over me. I didn’t exactly understand it so I blew it off as teenage mood swings. But every time Haley wanted to go to the beach I clung strongly to my reserve.
I woke up early on the third day, highly unusual for me, before anyone else. I went out on the balcony. We were on the 7th floor, so I could see for miles due to the height. I stared out at the monumental ocean dreaming about its power and influence. A lone seagull was flying in my direction. I picked up the sandwich I had been unable to eat the night before and threw the gull my bread, completely ignoring the clearly marked plaque to my left that read in dulled gold letters do not feed the birds. As the bird hovered in the air in front of me, I thought about how I had the power to change this bird’s future for the next few moments. If I were to throw him another piece of bread the bird would linger before me just a little longer, however, if my hesitation held out the bird would lose interest and leave me alone once again. I sat wondering what gave me the right to momentarily capture this bird’s freedom as I threw him the remainder of my bread towards the carefree animal. The lone bird stared expectantly at me until he realized I was out of food and had relinquished my control upon him. With graceful movement the bird flew away with moves all his own taking his life full of responsibilities to no one other than himself with him. I heard the rustling people awaking behind me and turned to shut the sliding door before anyone was up. I felt slightly more sheltered from their grasps, though all that had to be done was for one of them to open the door.
I continued to stair at the polluted ocean and human destroyed beaches as my family woke up, ate breakfast, and got ready for another fun filled day at the beach. In my daze, I felt the sliding door open behind me followed by light foot steps come up behind me. Haley walked in front of me and rested her arms lazily against the balcony rail. She lifted up her head, smiled, and took a deep breath of salted air. At that moment I hated her. How dare she bring her perfection and smiling face onto my balcony. She stood there in all her naiveté’s. Her and my views on the world differ completely. She stared out at the world outside my balcony with ignorant childlike wonder, seeing nothing but her own playground. She cared about nothing more then the next five minutes of her life and that was it. She held no fear of the future, no sorrow for others pasts, no anguish for the days she’s spent wasting. I use to watch her form her views on the world in amazement. I use to love to see her open her eyes and look out at a world that was so innocent it would crumble under its own perfection if it could exist. What I once used to love to have around me to balance out my own dark reality, I now stared at with jealousy, malice, and hatred. “Morning,” she said with a stretch. “Good morning,” I responded appropriately. “You eating breakfast?” she asked, though it appeared unimportant to her. “Na, I’m not hungry,” I replied befittingly. “Are you going to the beach today?” she asked with a touch of exasperation in her voice. “No I’m just going to read” I said properly as I picked up my lifeless book. “Good gosh, Savannah , you don’t ever want to do anything anymore!” she yelled, shattering the calmness of our conversation. She angrily stormed off my balcony and slammed my balcony door. Later I saw her down by the waves flaunting her brightly alluring bathing suit for some passing boys who stopped to look. I didn’t watch to see if they stayed to talk, my eyes drifted back and forth between the cold book and the overbearing sky. I stared at the title of the book printed in an arching fashion in elaborate fount of bright red coloring. But the title, which had once labeled my adventure, was melting into words which dripped into nothing more then letters and eventually ran completely out of my grip and comprehension.
Around noon my mother entered my balcony; she brought with her a sandwich. She sat down beside me and placed the sandwich on my table beside the other day old sandwich pieces. “O.K, what’s wrong?” she said crossing her legs and hands trying her best to appear like I had her full attention. “Nothing,” I replied quickly and then flashed a carefree smile. “I just hate the beach, I’ve always hated the sand and salt water,” I rambled. This is true I’ve never been much of a beachgoer. Mother, realizing I was not going to reveal my thoughts to her, sighed. She always knows when I will be willing to talk or when I need to be left alone. “Alright,” she said rising to her feet and kissing my forehead. “Well try to eat something and look at all the people down there having fun, if you feel like it you should join them,” she said and then left. “No thanks, I prefer reading,” I said to my closed door as the smile waned from my face.
I looked at the book. I just couldn’t understand why I couldn’t read. Reading, writing, drawing has always been an escape for me. When this world became too much, I’d simple slip into another book. But lately, I’ve labeled my daydreaming as a childish fantasy. I told myself wishing I was a character from another place and time is not going to help me except the life I have. I then changed my perception of my reading from doorways to adventurous worlds to simply words. I had trapped myself in a world I found boring and passionately hated. I realized this was the cause of my depression. I looked down at the kids and teens and adults and elderly all playing on the beach. From this height they all looked the same, the first one bleeding into the next. They’re all the same, all so unbearably unimportant. What’s to happen when they die? They’ll be mourned, cried over. But soon their loved one’s pains will dull and they’ll sink into forgotten memories. Then all those who were left to remember them will die. Then they themselves will have never existed except perhaps as a name on a sheet of paper somewhere in some file.
I made the resolve right then and there. I would never become one of those people. I will never just be a dot on a shore or ink on a sheet of paper. I gave myself a deadline, a time frame, and swore that if by the age of thirty five, if I have not done something worth being written in a book, I would disappear. When I thought the word disappear I first came up with suicide. But that, I decided, was too self pitting and not really a solution. It was simply an end. I decided at thirty five-being I still have led my boring day to day, head in the clouds life-I would leave. I would go somewhere remote and study. I’d give myself five years there to learn. Knowledge is power, that’s always been my motto; I’ve always just been too lazy to follow it. Then after five years, I’ll go back out into the world ready to change it. It was a shaky resolution, and I knew it. There were major holes in my plans for the future, but it didn’t bother me. I never doubted the universe would align its self so that I could do something great. My fear was that I’d get so caught up in the unimportance of everyday boring life that I’d miss it. Or I’d be unprepared to handle it, and it would pass me by. Then I’d die being nothing more than dust left over from a cosmic storm.
I smiled out at the all inspiring ocean, its powerful waves impacting the sands every movement. The glowing sky burned above me, and I allowed the salty ocean air to blanket me. I looked down at my brilliantly glowing book. Breathing softy, I opened the sliding door allowing the cool air-conditioned air to mix with my salty stale air, picked up my cold sandwich, cracked my book, and began to read.
The moment in its self holds no importance but it changed the course of my future. On that day, I made the resolution to refuse the monotony of life. Occasionally, if I stay to long out of my fantasy world, the day to day darkness begins to consume. But all I have to do is begin to read or write or draw and I’m sent off into the blissful delusion of an adventure, at least until I have a real one of my own. I decided on that day never to lie down and except life’s melancholy