Varvara

THIS IS IT

‘is it terrifying?’ ‘no. i don’t think so. it’s the way it is, you know? everything must come to an end, the drip finally stops.’ ‘see you on the other side.’

i was making up my mind as i was checking off the last textbooks the students of my class had turned in. that was it: no more essays, math problems, presentations, no more waking up at 7 a.m., walking to school with my best friend, no more tries to fit in the community i didn’t enjoy being a part of, no more mental abuse by the soviet-shaped teachers - no more school. all the books were back in the library, all the grades were written down, all of us were free. or were we?

the smell of the last summer in my childhood hit my nostrils while i was making my way down the steps. the walls i have been surviving in for the past seven years were whispering their last goodbyes into my ears. there were no more eighth-graders chatting on the windowsills, no more fifth-graders running around the hallways and knocking the seniors off their feet, no more seventh-grade girls discussing boys in the bathroom - only my shoes were tapping on the stairs i have walked up and down one too many times.

‘well, that is not the end,’ i thought, ‘i’m not leaving the country, at least. another city is not another continent. i will come to visit my favorite teacher, will see my classmates over the summer. there is still prom celebration to come and some gatherings with my friends.’

i walked out the gymnasium’s doors that day, confident that i deeply loved this place and the people i grew up with and would be back for a visit very soon. little did i know.

‘oh, no, there is no other side. this is it.’

* credits to the Bojack Horseman TV series creators for the quotes in bold.

Varvara