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As I stand in the center of the room, I take one last longing look around me. I feel well acquainted with the room and am pleased that I can relate to the emotions it portrays. On the outside it shows defeat, age, and delicacy, but inside is where its story truly lies. Its heart is still pounding vigorously, its complexion is young and vibrant, and it still welcomes anyone who is curious and willing to listen. My ears strain to see if I can hear the room’s silent breathing; it’s sleeping now, soundless as a newborn baby. I look up at the ceiling to see its dreams swirling in circles above me. I smile to myself and gently tip-toe across the slumbering room, careful not to wake it. The ragged door shuts with a quiet click as my eyes adjust to the now brightly lit hallway where I first began my journey.
My eyes flutter open and I realize I am in my very own slumbering room. My comforting bed is cozy and warm and there’s a slight cool breeze blowing in my window. My curtain waves to me as if to say, “Good morning.” I can hear meadowlarks outside the window, singing the same wondrous song I heard in my dream. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of contentment and for a moment in time, all the weight I’ve carried for so long seems to be lifted off my shoulders and thrown to the side. It’s a brand new day and that’s just how I like it–taking life one day at a time. —Sara Pearce OJC Freshman |
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Funding For This Site Provided In Part By A Title V Grant
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