Tsunami

I sighed deeply to myself. This all was too much to take in. My stress moved in waves, and it seemed I was fighting a whole tsunami by myself.

I sat quietly, at my desk, with a dim lamp being the only light. Stacks of books covered my table, and paper flooded the floor of my bedroom. With my hand on my forehead, I tried to stay focused as I attempted to find the answer to X to the second power, subtracted by 7 x times 11 in parentheses, when X to the second power subtracted by 11 x added to 30 equals 1. I could not get past the first step.

I looked at my clock. It’s red light shined a clear “1:14 A.M.” in my eyes. I squinted at the clock. I was so tired. But I still had more to finish. And I haven’t even started my science and geography homework.

I heard footsteps make their way to the door of my room. I closed my eyes, hoping no one would see me like this. A gentle knock hit the door.

“Go away.” I said, expecting it to be my mother, preparing to yell at me for not getting enough sleep.

“I want to say hi.” A voice said, which was not my mothers. It was my brother. He was 3 years older than me, and I had no idea how he kept track of all this work.

He opened the door, uninvited, and stepped inside. He looked tired. His brown hair was a mess as I stared at him with a disapproving look.

I looked back over at my workbook and attempted to finish the problem.

“No, no,” My brother said, walking over to me and gently taking the book from my hands. I let him.

“What are you doing up?” I asked.

“So I should ask the same of you,” he replied.

“You have a test tomorrow.” I reminded him.

“And you do too. Do you not?”

I sighed, and looked down.

“What are you doing up so late at night?” he questioned. He walked towards me and stood next to my chair.

“Studying.” I answered.

“Tell me about that.” He taunted.

“I’m stressed, ok?” I said, slightly annoyed.

“Explain.” He told me.

“I feel I have no more time with myself.” I started. He tilted his head. I inhaled, feeling a slight perk of tears at the corner of my eyes.

“I can’t keep up with all this school work anymore. I keep trying, and trying, but I just keep on failing. I can’t keep up with the expectations mom and dad have for me. I just can’t. I work all day after school, and I let it cut into my sleep. I just feel like this is all there is to it.”

“All there is to what?” He asked me, his eyes shining in the light my lamb casted.

“All there is to life.” I said. “I asked dad for help, all he seemed to do, was tell me to do better. I asked him if I could switch classes to a better teacher. He said I would have to just work harder. I asked him if I really deserve to suffer because my teacher can’t teach me. He said I need to learn to deal with it...and...I just-” I stopped.

“What did he say?” My brother asked.

“He- he said that it’s just life. But if this is life, then I’m not too sure I want to live it.”

I watched his eyes grow wider.

“If my future is only pain and stress, then I don’t see the point to keep trying.” I finished.

He paused. Thinking of something to cheer me up.

“School is the main reason why kids ages 7-21 commit suicide more than any other age.” He said to my surprise.

“If so many people want to die due to this...this work, then why is it here?”

“I don’t know.” I said.

He did not say anything back to me. I closed my eyes.

“You know I went through the same pain you are.” He said. I looked at him.

“You mean you stayed up till-” I looked at the clock. “1:26 In the morning, every single night. Asking yourself if you will never break free from this endless loop, and spending your only hour of freetime, crying by yourself, asking why you’re not good enough?”

“Yes.” He replied. I was at a loss for words.

“And do you know how I fixed it?” He asked me. I looked down again.

“I told myself that the greatest people alive today never quit. They never gave up. And what happened to them? They were never forgotten.”

“Everything is forgotten at some point.” I said. He smiled at me.

“The wolf on the hill is never as hungry as the wolf climbing it. If you stop now, you’ll never reach your destination.”

“Is that a quote?” I asked. He nodded.

“So am I to just keep stressing out and suffering until I graduate? Is that what you're telling me?” He stared at me. I had missed the point.

“You can’t run from your problems. But you can’t overthink them. I think you’ll be ok. Just remind yourself the pain is worth it. You’ll make it. I know you will.”