k-gorman8 - Tumblr blog

k-gorman8 · 5 years ago

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So I had to write an essay about a hero in my English class. I had reached the point where I didn’t care anymore so I started it off as a joke. Very quickly I realized I actually truly enjoyed the assignment. Enjoy :)

Hero Essay

“In a world. . .

With no bravery. . .

There is only one who can save us. . .”

*queue dramatic music*

“BRAVEMAN! The man who is brave!”

The TV screen illuminated the dark room. My sister, sitting on the couch with a book in hand, scoffs at me.

“You’re watching Braveman again? You know that’s not real. No one could ever be like that. ‘Bravery’ or whatever isn’t real.”

“It’s a good movie,” I say. “Dad likes it.”

“Yeah well I think it’s stupid,” she rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you read something? Something real? Like the encyclopedias. You haven’t even gotten to the letter K yet.”

I shake my head and turn back to the screen. I watch as Braveman speaks in front of a group of people and talks to strangers he doesn’t know. The thought of speaking to someone outside of my family is. . . horrifying. How does someone do that? Shaking someone’s hand? Being where everyone can see you? I wished and longed to have his powers. I glanced back at my sister. She was right. Bravery isn’t real. There’s no way I could be brave.

I woke up curled up on the floor. The credits to Braveman were scrolling on the TV. I must have fallen asleep. I looked back at the couch. It was empty.

“Must’ve gone to bed,” I mumbled to myself. “I should do the same.” I started to turn off the TV when I accidentally hit the channel button, redirecting me to the new channel. I started to slide my hand to the correct button when something caught my attention.

“We have decided it would be best for us as a community if we returned to traditions from before the epidemic of 2020.” My eyes widened. Was this really what I was hearing? I turned it up to be sure. The computer-reporter began again, “Beginning the first of August, our community will go back to having in-person schooling and work programs, and social interaction will be restored.”

I felt my jaw drop. 2020? That was the year my grandma was born! I thought. We’re going back to a lifestyle from over 70 years ago? I ran to my parents room.

“Mom! Dad! Check out the news!” I yelled as I burst into their room and woke them up. “Turn on the TV! Turn it on!”

“Gosh, Olivia!” My mom said. “You almost scared the life out of me!” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s so important?” I suddenly realized how rude I had been.

“I’m sorry,” I started to back out of the room. “Maybe it’s not that important.” My dad grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. The news was still going.

“There have been many studies over the past 10-15 years about the pros and cons of social interaction. Although keeping to yourself was once very needed to prevent the spread of a deadly virus, our recent studies have shown that being around people is crucial for healthy development of the brain.”

“What is this?” my mom interrupted. “Are we supposed to believe -”

“Shh.” my dad quieted her. He had a very serious look on his face.

“What do you mean shh? I have-”

“Shhh!” he insisted. My mom stared at him in disbelief. I watched as his face changed from serious and confused to shocked and surprised.

“Ever since 2020, our medication has provided our brains the stimulation we need, but recent studies have shown that actual social interaction is far more effective and will save millions of dollars every year.”

I think of the pill that our entire family takes everyday. It’s always been so routine, I’ve never questioned it.

“It’s good for your brain.” I recall my dad telling me once. “Take it every morning and you’ll be good to go.” That was always enough of an explanation for me. I never knew it was to replace something we were lacking.

As my mom began to realize what was going on, she began to look terrified. My dad also looked scared. But for some reason, I wasn’t scared. I felt. . . excited? I didn’t know what I was feeling. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t bad at all. It was something I had never felt before. . .

It has been 3 months since I saw the news about returning to an old lifestyle. 4 days until the first of August. Pretty much everything on TV has been about this lifestyle. Real people have been on TV recently instead of the typical computer-voice. They stutter and their hands shake. I can’t imagine how scary being in front of a camera would be, nonetheless one where the entire country - maybe the entire world - sees you.

We have been given study materials on the old lifestyle. It’s mostly made up of pictures from old, traditional classrooms where there were over 20 students in one room at once. That blew my mind. The most people I’ve ever been in a room with at once is 5. And that’s a lot for someone my age. There were pictures of the once-busy streets of New York, the area flooded with cars and people. I knew life was different 70 years ago, but I had never known about any of this. The only history we had been taught was that there was a disease that led to a safer community where everyone stayed at home. That’s all that I’ve ever known. That’s how I grew up. That’s how my parents grew up. And that’s how their parents grew up. My deceased grandpa, who was 8 in 2020, was the last one in my family that could’ve remembered anything from the old lifestyle, but he’s gone.

As soon as it was decided to stay indoors, anything about being out of our houses was taken out of the education system in order to make sure everyone lived indoors. Food and medication was delivered to houses. Everyone worked from home. Now, the people who once wrote at-home curriculum would become teachers. Those who helped develop medications and prepared diets designed specifically for every person would become doctors. Anyone who was still in school would remain a student, but attend school with everyone else.

I was going into my junior year and my sister was going into her senior year. She was terrified. She broke down in tears and my parents had to order a special medication to calm her down. I, however, was not scared. I didn’t know what I was. As I thought this over, the movie Braveman flashed through my head. Brave? I thought. Am I. . . brave? I thought of the feeling inside of me. I wanted to go to school. I was excited to see the streets filled with people. But I remembered what my sister told me. No. I told myself. I can’t be brave. Brave isn’t real.

I woke up to the sun shining through my window. The blinds used to always be closed, but I’ve been keeping them open to get used to the sunlight. It was bright and warm, it felt unnatural. . . even though it was the only natural light there was. I put on the new clothing that had been delivered to my house yesterday morning. Jeans, tall black socks, a blue polo shirt, and a new pair of shoes. My sister had a similar outfit, but a yellow shirt. There was also a care-package sent for all of us. On the outside of the box, there was a list that read:

Contents:

1 girl’s junior school outfit - Olivia

1 girl’s senior school outfit - Chelsea

2 backpacks (includes laptop, notebook, and 2 pencils each)

1 women's work attire - Victoria

1 men’s work attire - Ben

4 nametags - Ben, Victoria, Chelsea, Olivia

4 personal cell phone

4 instruction guides

4 personal sunscreen bottles - prolonged sun exposure may cause irritation. Please apply every 2 hours to avoid sunburn

1 anxiety pill - Chelsea

4 medication pills - THIS IS YOUR LAST DOSAGE

I got dressed and applied the sunscreen. Whatever a sunburn was did not sound pleasing. The sunscreen was oily and greasy but it smelled nice. I dropped the pill into my palm and took a deep breath. For some reason knowing this was the last one was. . . relieving, almost. I had a good feeling about today. I popped my head back and swallowed it, feeling it as it made its way down my throat.

“The bus is here!” my mom shouted from across the house. I slid the sunscreen into my pocket, grabbed my instruction book and tossed it in my bag, threw the bag over my shoulders, and ran to the door. My sister came out of her room with a worried expression on her face. I stopped and turned around towards her.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.” I reassured her. She tried to smile at me, but I could tell she was still upset. I skipped through the door and smiled big at my dad.

“Excited?” he asked.

“Yeah!” I said quickly, maybe a little too quickly based on the shocked expression on his face.

“Well that’s good!” he said and he straightened his tie. “Let’s hope today goes well. . .” I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

I got to the door of the bus and it slid open. I took a deep breath and stepped on, my dad trailing shortly behind me. There were 2 other families on the bus. I swallowed deep and I walked through the aisle, glancing at the other people on the bus. There was another girl with a blue shirt on and I smiled at her. She looked at the ground. I thought back to the instruction book. Seat B3. I remembered. I found it, sat down quickly, and eagerly tapped my foot, waiting for the bus to move. When the rest of my family was seated, we began to roll forward. My sister had the window seat, but she slumped her head down and looked at her feet. I looked past her to see the amazing outside world, the sun shining through the tinted glass.

“Passengers,” the auto-driver’s robotic voice said, “welcome to your first day of our social lifestyle. If at any point you need help, please address your handbook or simply select the blue application on your new cell phones.”

I remembered my cell phone in my pocket. My family’s contact information accessible in the yellow application, my personal information in the red application, and help from a government official in the blue application. I glanced over at my mom who was worryingly flipping through her instruction book. My dad was looking out the window like I was, with a pleasant expression on his face. My sister was still slumped in her seat, looking at her shoes. She looked up at me and I smiled at her. I watched her close her eyes, take a deep breath, and smile at me too, this time more genuine.

The bus came to a slow stop.

“Students attending freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year, this is your destination.”

I stood up excitedly and looked at my parents. My mom cracked a wry smile at me and my dad waved me goodbye. I smiled big and walked to the front of the bus, my sister slowly trailing behind me, along with the rest of the nervous children about to go to school.

I stepped off the steps of the bus and looked up at the large building in front of me. GRANDBURY HIGH SCHOOL was carved into the front of the large, stone entrance. The students gathering in a group behind me were also gazing at the building we had never seen before. I glanced at the girl with the blue shirt and read her name tag. “REBECCA JONES”, it read. Rebecca. I thought. I’m gonna try to be friends with Rebecca. I decided. She realized I was looking at her so I tried smiling at her again. Slowly, a small smile formed on her face. She began to walk forward, so I followed.

There were kiosks set up for us to check in. I walked up to one and scanned my nametag. It buffered for a second then displayed a message. WELCOME, OLIVIA BARREN. PLEASE REPORT TO ROOM 127 - ENGLISH. A map showed the school hallways, with a green line leading me down the hallway to the right. The phone in my pocket began to vibrate, so I pulled it out of my pocket. The screen lit up with the map displaying on the kiosk. I followed the green line displayed on my phone until I reached room 127.

I walked into the room. There were already a few students sitting in their seats. We were all wearing a blue shirt, except for one lady at the front of the room who was wearing a maroon shirt. Must be the teacher. I thought to myself. I walked through the aisles of desks until I found my name. OLIVIA B it read on the tiny screen on the corner of the desk. I hung my backpack on the hook on the back of the chair, and sat down, then remembered what I had read in the instruction book. I scanned my name tag. The screen glowed green, indicating I had been marked as present.

The room began to fill up, but it remained silent. Everyone kept their eyes low, even the teacher. I watched Rebecca walk in, but she didn’t see me. When everyone’s desks had green glowing where their names were, the teacher stood at the center of the front of the room and cleared her throat.

“Hello, class.” she was sweating and her hands were shaky, but she took a deep breath and continued. “Uhh...I am Ms.Greene.” I felt like chuckling at her silly color name, but I refrained. “I will be teaching english. This will be the first class you will report to every morning.” She paused and collected her thoughts. She cleared her throat again. “Is, uh, is there anyone who would like to introduce themselves?”

Somehow the silence became even quieter. Everyone was stiff in their seats, staring at their desks. The only thing you could hear was the tapping of my foot, which was rapidly speeding up. Everyone sat there for what seemed like forever. Ms.Greene stared at her feet and waited for anything to happen.

The feeling inside of me that I had been feeling all day grew even larger. Scenes from Braveman flashed in my head. Talking in front of people. Shaking hands. Being brave. This. I thought, but it felt more like I was screaming in my head. This is it. This is your chance. Your chance to be brave. I took a deep breath and I clutched the edge of my desk. What are you waiting for? I continued to hold still. What are you waiting for?!

Suddenly, I stood up. The entire class stared at me. My teacher looked startled and terrified. Rebecca looked at me with her mouth agape. The kid next to me looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“My name is Olivia,” I say. “Olivia Barren.” I look around the room and a strange, proud happiness fills me. “It’s nice to meet all of you.” I smile big and sit back down.

That was it. I thought. That was bravery.

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