The Alarm This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

September 15, 2010
By , winnetka, IL
The alarm. It rings. I hear it, but it’s not me hearing it. Because I am trapped. I am trapped inside the extraneous world that I do not belong to. That kid you see lying face down on his bed, sliver of drool coming out of his mouth, that’s not me. I am not apart of it. I am thrust into it for a short period of time, known as sleep, but I eventually must be brought back to reality. Back to the cold reality of where I am. Who I am. For 6 hours of the night I am a horse running wild in the dreams of my youth, with nothing but hopes and dreams on the tip of my tongue. And then that alarm, it is the rope that draws me back. That restrains me from running lose with my dreams forever. But it wakes me. The annoying buzzing is but a shrill reminder that I am alive. I find myself wondering who I am for a few moments. Those are the best. For in those moments I could be anyone. I am anyone, and I am no one. And then the thought comes back to me. I am someone. But who?

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