Alexander McKillop 9/18/09

English 101,15 Paper #1

December 12th. 5:00 PM. Another Friday night beckons to me with icy, alluring

fingers. It’s been too long since the last, certainly longer than a week. You see, my

escape from the confines of the glass cage that I live in only occurs on a weekly basis. I

am an average high school senior, in all respects of the word ‘average.’ Hardly more of a

social presence than the common housefly, I am not even worthy of the nasty high school

gossip that pervades the halls and my ears. Yet, Friday night is my forbidden lover.

Friday night always stretches her wretched hand and places the hammer in my lap. The

beautiful, glistening hammer rests in my hands! I can feel the pulse, the swish. Tonight I

will raise the hammer up, and I will swing until the glass bars shatter. Such is always a

beautiful sight: the glisten of the glass as it soars through the air, the dull thud of the

mallet upon the ground.

December 13th. 5:00 AM. The walls have been eradicated. I have leaped up and

felt the space around me! My brother let me tag along to a big house party in our

neighborhood. Familiar faces leapt out at every corner, even as we walked in. Yet, no

eyes met my gaze. My brother disappeared, melting into the crowd as he searched for his

girlfriend. I paused, standing amongst a sea of personality and expression. The only

thing to do was to dive in. A faceless boy handed me a glass. No, that is untrue. I can

still envision his face as clearly as I did then. His golden locks were perfectly disheveled.

His green eyes flared red as the glass was shoved before me. I could hear the familiar

swish. It was time to raise up the bludgeon.

 I don’t remember when the glass broke. But it did. Opaque, distant faces were

magnified and cleared, as if I had been cured of astigmatism. I was certain that smiles

crossed my path. The familiarity was warm. Friday night always has a way of drawing

me in and comforting my fears, my anxieties, and my frustrations. I only wish that the

cage wasn’t reconstructed each and every time. Each glimpse outside of my cell fastens

and emboldens my desire to escape, time and time again. I wonder if I am alone in this

struggle. Alas, it is useless conjecture and my desire for sleep is greater than my

yearning to engage the mysterious smiling faces. It is strange that they stand under such

turbulence. It is as if the house rests upon the ocean. It even causes seasickness! But

that is of no consequence; the smiling faces look down and giggle whenever I cannot

control my sickness. Their smiles are enough reassurance. I can fall asleep content, no

matter where I lay.

December 15th. 11:00 AM. I’ve reached the pinnacle. The events of last Friday,

as hazy as they may be, spurned all too much pathos. I cannot sit back whilst the faces

around me can maintain such consistent complacency. Why can’t I even muster a sham

of their social capacity? It’s as if they aren’t human. Why do I have to leave my cage

just to glimpse the outside? Why is the cage even there? Am I the only one that isn’t

blind? Or is it my perspective that is beyond repair? In terms of sanity, I feel alone, cold

and alone. My frustration boils, thus my conclusion has been set. I will contend to break

my cage again and again. Time spent for rest and recuperation is an unnecessary

necessity. The hammer is hard to conceal in an environment such as school, but my

desire to really engage those around me makes any counterpoint into a quibble.

Therefore, I sit in the cafeteria, munching on stale pizza and drinking something a tad
bitterer than milk. I am still alone; as if my glass cage even obscures the table I sit at.

Why am I invisible? Where is my voice? Where is my presence? I don’t know what to

do.

I’ll just keep swinging.

December 15th. 3:00 PM. I’m really starting to get used to life without a cage. It

is the happiest I’ve ever been. Vague glances have become open smiles. Warm laughter

blankets my steps. People look at me in class! I talk in, even out of, class! I walked up

to a girl after Calculus, and I asked her a question about the homework assignment. She

giggled and said...something. I’m not quite sure what. I do remember that she was quite

pretty though. She had blonde hair. No, that’s not true. But it’ll do, as nothing else

comes to mind. This kind of happiness is unprecedented. The cold glass no longer

obscures my vision. I am certain that I am imbibing the sensation of normality. I’m

living, and not for short glimpses of time. Given the means, I can live eternal. Ah, what

a romantic thought!

December 17th. 7:00 PM. Normality has its consequences. I no longer have any

desire to keep this account of my quest for sanity. It has been achieved, and I am content.

I don’t have much use for contemplation or delegation. I exist outside of myself. The

cage has faded away at last. I remember the last time I swung the mallet into its

glistening bars. Glass smashed into thousands of bits, each reflecting the image of my

face. They settled upon the ground and I walked on. My only burden is the hammer. It

is heavy, and it weakens me.

But I’ll just keep swinging. It’s all that keeps me alive. It’s all I need.