Pretty Words | TeenInk

Pretty Words

September 10, 2008
By Kavya Shankar SILVER, San Jose, California
Kavya Shankar SILVER, San Jose, California
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Daylight segued into darkness, leaving my household silent. The rustling of my posters was all that could be heard. Hours had passed, yet I couldn't sleep with so much on my mind. I stared blankly at my ceiling, reminiscing about my past. All my life I've loved to read and write. All throughout middle school, I wrote and read stories about characters that made a difference in the world and achieved all of their ambitions. I was constantly admired and praised by most of my classmates and teachers for my talent, and everyone thought of me as the girl who wrote such pretty words.

In sixth grade, my English teacher signed my yearbook. He told me that I was an amazing writer, which I got from everyone, but he also told me that at some point in life, I would have to stop writing about the life of imaginary people and go out there to live my own life. I laughed off what he had written, telling myself that there was no need to go out there in live, when I could safely live through my own characters and the characters of other authors.

Somehow, throughout the next year, the words of my teacher wouldn't leave my mind. I really thought about the words, and came to realize that I wasn't just writing because I loved it; I was writing because I was afraid of facing the world. I was afraid of living those experiences myself; so instead, I lived them through my writing. It felt like I could no longer write realistically about a person having all of his or her dreams come true, because it had never happened to me. I couldn't just bury myself in my writing anymore.

Eventually, I began putting myself out there. I spent less time writing about dreams, and spent more time trying to achieve my own dreams. I learned to understand and trust myself, and soon realized, that it's okay to fail sometimes in life. It's okay to fall down, because it's all worth the moment when you finally stop falling. Writing and reading about experiences were nowhere near the same as living them.

Sure, I could write pretty words, but I learned that life wasn't about pretty words in a storybook. Reading or writing a novel was one thing, but life itself was a totally different experience. When life gets a bit scary, and you aren't sure how everything is going to turn out, there's no way to flip to the end and find out if it's a happy ending. Rather, you have to work your way through the issues and try to make decisions that will lead you to your own happy ending. Unlike reading a novel, there is no predetermined path for you like there is for a character, but rather there are multiple ways you can try to achieve your goals. Instead of spending all my life writing about girls with beautiful dreams who made a difference in society, I started becoming that girl that I admired so much in my writing. I soon became a character in my own novel, writing each chapter as I went, hoping to turn out with a happy ending. I'm positive that this novel, the novel of my life, will be my greatest masterpiece yet.

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