Retrospect

                                                         Retrospect                                                                                                              

My eyes adjust to the dimness I am bestowed by. I can faintly make out the silhouette of two rustic doors just within my reach, my eyes strain to recognize my surrounding, only to come up short. My fingers grasp the handle, the eroded paint, chips as I turn it. The pressure releases the unknown as the door sways open, a pronounced creak filling my eardrums with a weary feeling of impending doom. The ground dissipates abruptly from underneath me, I am free falling through complete darkness, blinded by my own actions. The wind slaps against my face, dislocating my form, from its natural position as I plummet through the abyss. My eyelashes take over, blinking to absorb the liquid that evades imprisonment by my eyes. As the vagueness of my facial irrigation dwindles into obscurity, I find the scene altered. The wind has suddenly stopped. Everything is at a standstill, I am face to face with the doors again. My hand gravitates towards the opposite door, the cool metal of the knob imprinting its texture onto my palm. For a split second I hesitate to open it, not sure what awaits me behind the aged wood. A beautiful vast maze of nature in its essence comes alive below me, ravishing and intimidating all in one. “Magnificent isn’t it” I turn my head, towards the voice, finding a women, beautifully aged with time. “What is it” I ask, curiosity lining my voice. “Close your eyes and listen.” My eyelids flutter shut. Her warm voice radiates through the air between us “Listen to the sounds of the waterfall, each droplet coming together, feel the excitement of the sun, encouraging you. The endless paths you can embrace upon. Take in the freshness of the unknown, the curiosity of the atmosphere.” “Why are you showing me this?” The corners of her lips turn up in a faint smile, almost as if she was remembering something. I look at her completely and utterly perplexed. Her eyes, as soft as the summer's sky watch my face as I analyze her confident poise. Her eyebrows flex and her forehead wrinkles in a mosaic pattern. Her lips begin to from the words that seem to cement themselves into my mind. “The doors coexisting side by side, in the same room yet world’s apart, grade 12 is a mere reflection of this. It’s your year, but you have to make the best of it. You can choose the first door and free fall through it, going through the motions yet never making anything for yourself. Or you can choose the second door. Invest a little aspiration, and get a harvest of opportunities at the end. Choose to live in the beauty of it. Enjoy everything about the experience, because the clock is always ticking, bringing graduation a second closer with each pulse.