Fiction

A Genius and Her Unanswered Questions

I am Back in School

It doesn’t feel godlike, but it sure feels superior.

Here I am again, back in time.

I boldly stare at the teacher, something I wouldn’t have done at that age.

My body feels a bit restricted by the school uniform, which still fits me in these recurring dreams. I’ve gained, wow, a good 20 pounds since high school. Yet, in every dream, the uniform still snugly fits me, touching every inch of my skin.

The uniform carries the memory of my old identity, like a ghost outfit.

An identity of a young soul who might never understand herself.

Some said, “You are a genius,” in a celebratory and hopeful voice. Others said, “You’re arrogant and stubborn,” as if I had sinned by being myself.

It didn’t matter what I said. When you’re young, your life is firmly held by the grownups who won’t stop judging you and pushing you (or ignoring you), even when they shouldn’t.

Here, in the dream, I’m no longer what I was.

What an indescribable moment — sitting in the same classroom, clothed in yesterday’s uniform with today’s mind.