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Есеј ученика Марка Кажића, II4 италијанско одељење, професор Тања Пантовић

Inaudible Fantasy

          Тhat’s it! I’m moving to New Orleans. I can’t take living here anymore. I love my grandma’, but I simply want to run away. I have a friend in New Orleans…I don’t know…it may change my future life, but this isn’t the right place for me.

My grandma’ is very ill, I wish I could help her, but I don’t know how. I’ll go to the hospital now, to visit her.

I

        Grandma’ was feeling bad. Her old and weak lungs had become too small. She could hardly take a breath. The doctor said that this was going to be a serious problem of a mankind and unfortunately she was the first case. We were all going to get smaller and our lungs were going to be really small because there was no more oxygen in the world. We wouldn’t be able to talk, but we would be only able to whisper a few words and to write if we wanted to communicate with someone. Animals would suffer from this, too. The doctor was really concerned about this. He was thinking what to do next. I was really confused and at the same time very sad. I was losing my grandma’ and I was unable to help. Finally, he made a decision. He told me that I had an hour more if I used an oxygen bottle. So, he gave me two of them in case I wanted to spend the last hour of my life with the person I choose.

I got home, picked up a notebook and a pen and went to the park to pick up someone. It was a girl.

We were walking across the street and suddenly we started to get smaller and smaller. Cars were too big for us, so we couldn’t drive them. Bikes were also like giants for us, we could ride only toys. Plants were very high, buildings were like our everyday problems (big and ugly), birds were like our wishes and dreams (untouchable but still worth going after), glasses were like a bright view to a not so bright future…We stopped. We had twenty minutes more. We started writing to each other whatever we want just to get to know to each other even though we were going to disappear.

II

My writing…

“I’m having an awful day today. My grandma’s in hospital. I don’t have parents so you may imagine how I feel. My life has been kind of pointless, but I have tried to use every chance it gave to me. I have played, I have joked, I have run, I have talked…

I found out that I had a sister but my parents had taken her with them away from me. I was sad and at times I was happy…I feel like  I was born in wrong time. But then, there’s my grandma’…She is a wonderful person. She talked to me for hours and then she would go to sleep, but before she would always tell me: “Be happy, darling , that you are here, on this planet”. I love her, too much. We talk about everything: science, art, opera, sports, politics, economy, food…but never about my parents. She thought it was bad for me to talk about them and I didn’t want to be the curious one. I enjoyed talking with her. I was too small, but from my point of view, she enjoyed it too. Now, she is in hospital, lying and I can’t help her…imagine how miserable I feel.

I  wasn’t angry with my parents at all. I understood them, it was their choice and I respect that.

I’ve never been on a holiday with my family, I’ve never gone to a cinema with my sister, I’ve never had wonderful time with my father…but I’m still not angry.

I like to read, imagine, dream…I smoke, it’s bad for me.

I love to watch people who walk across my street through my window. Families are passing happily, but I’m not jealous at all.

Living with my grandma’ is something…I can’t explain it…I’ll just say beautiful. Now, I regret ever thinking about moving to New Orleans. But we are all rebels in ourselves. I made a mistake and I know it.

Well, we have 5 minutes more, as you may know…but for me it’s like eternity.”

III

Her writing…

“I was really afraid when you had taken me with you, but later when you explained it to me, I felt safe. I was really sad because I  wouldn’t be able to go to shopping this afternoon, and  talk to my friends…I think that  would be all about me…I mean, that is what my life is about.

Ah…No, that’s only what I’m pretending to be. You are the first person (and probably the last) to whom I will tell this.

I always seem to be very happy even though I am not. My father works and earns a lot, my mother works and earns a lot and my sister is older than me so she is hardly ever at home. I have always been a dreamer and I have always written poems but I have never had a chance to read one of them to anyone. I was the only child in my school that didn’t wear expensive clothes even if I could. I’ve never had a boyfriend but I have had  numerous crushes. Most of the time I’m alone and I write poems. Poems are my life. I don’t have anyone with whom I’d share what I do, what I love but I do that through poems. I write them in hope that later in my life when I read them I’ll be happy. Everybody in my school hates teachers, but even though they aren’t fair, I don’t hate them.

Once I was sitting with my sister, she was talking about her fulfilled life and I was happy to hear that she was fine. However, when I started to talk about my life, she said she had some important things to do for school and I would nod and say “Fine”.  But deep inside  I would feel really sad and terrible.

I’ve travelled a lot and I would like to live in St. Petersburg. It’s a wonderful place. Inever had a chance to meet my grandma’ nor my grandpa’ but I think that they were great.

I’m sad that we have so little time to talk, but I’m sure but I am sure had we met earlier we would have made good friends.

IV

And then we couldn’t breathe anymore, we sat and looked at each other and in an instant we disappeared knowing it was a shame that we couldn’t talk.

Марко Кажић