In Time

I try every day not to lag behind, get lost, left out, or forgotten. 

For my whole life, I have searched for more, something grander than my current existence in this world. I attend school every day, waiting for some greatness to happen. Daydreams of every possibility, such as being captured from school for a great adventure, reclaiming the land for my people, and being written into the history books as a hero. 

I envision this as a reality through my writing. I am a soon-to-be-famous writer. I can see thousands reading my words, envisioning themselves through the adventures I imagine. Little Miss Know It All pulls me out of my daydreaming. Miss Anoyying has been in my class for three years now, my nemesis. She also wishes to be a writer, but I promise to surpass her. Not because I want to be rude, but more because I do not know how this cannot be my chance. Unfortunately, only one person you know can get their chance. And that person must be me.

She told the teacher that I was writing again and not paying attention. I practically spit at her as I poke my tongue out. The teacher takes her writing materials along with my own until the end of the day. While falsely prosecuted, I proudly handed them over, as it felt good to see her finally in trouble, too. 

As a child, when I was in trouble, I spent most of my time sitting in my room and listening to the empty walls. A pen and paper on my desk; at least you have that. Writing about faraway places all day and all night. Hope for a future where I can see my name be known forever. I would not be like my family that came before. Lost in name even to me. My words would spread like wildfire through the hearts of every reader.

My words would dance on the page and come alive in their minds. Today was the day I had been searching for, waiting, and working diligently, dreaming of one day reaching. I grabbed my stuff from my teacher, spacing out during her discipline, ready to run out of there. Out of school, I went down the street. The publishing office was my last chance before I had to get a real life and focus on my "attainable goals". One last chance before this hobby that won't make money less alone, engraving my name into the lives of others, will be forgotten. Tossed away for a more "respectable career that supports you." 

I gripped the letter tightly in my hand, determined to not have the same fate of being forgotten as everyone who came before me. The bell of the door brought me out of my daydreams as the kindest woman greeted me from the table. Her smile eased my nerves as I sat down. Barely finding the words, I slid the envelope across the table. "I'm not sure if you accept paper". She carefully picked up to inspect my envelope and added it to a large pile next to her. "I will set it aside to be read; if they like it, they will contact you in a week. As always, thank you, and we wish you more creativity in the future". The mantra slipped out of her mouth like it had been reheard a hundred times before. As I went to stand, I felt the courage to ask. "What's my chance". 

Those kind eyes looked at me, clearly empathetic to my dream, crumbling at seeing the pile of dreams before me. Various-colored envelopes, each the dream of someone before myself, each one hoping not to be forgotten in this world that keeps going, never-ending, even when you stop breathing. 

"They never read these things." The words pulled me from my hope and ripped it out. Before the tears could well in my eyes, I ran to forget this awful dream had even happened. My mother was right, and I should spend Time reading school books instead of trying to write them. Don't get me started on how much my mother despises fantasy books; would she even bother reading mine? No one would read mine. My feet dragged me home as I practically ran to my room. Avoiding any looks from my mother, who would always wait by the couch for me to come home from school. "Why are you late" Her voice stopped me in my tracks. I brushed it off as an after-school activity, but the tears in my eyes gave me away. 

My mother stood from her spot and wrapped her arms around me. Soothing the pain from before, easing me to sit with her. "For why are you so upset" she questioned as I laid on her chest like I did once as a child. The tears pushed through and fell as I held my mother; words undecipherable came from my mouth. Once calm enough to speak, I let my secret slip. "I am afraid to be forgotten". My mother's face was unreadable as she almost seemed to laugh. "Why would you ask such a thing." I was confused, so I explained my day in great detail; every interaction, feeling, and decision fell from my lips. My mother listened eagerly, clearly focused on what I had to say.

Finally, my mother spoke, "I will be right back". She left me on the couch as she hurried away. Alone, forgotten, waiting for the one thing that cares for me to return. She has a small piece of paper wrapped in her hand when she returns. She hands it to me and asks me to read it to her:

As far as Time may Take me 

I will always come home to find you 

For your guide

In life and after

I find myself in you 

My mom

"You wrote this for me long ago, and I have not forgotten you. I see you every day in me, and you will continue to see me every day in you. No matter where you go or where I may leave, you will not be forgotten. Each move you make impacts the world around you. As for your writing, remain dedicated to your goals; everything will come in Time." 

My mother's words stayed with me, reminding me of my importance to the world. Even if those around me never read the words I write and never know my name, I will not be forgotten. Even my footprints in the sand have their impact, just as much as the words I write.