The Boy Who Stole Dreams, part 2

Everything was failing. She couldn't think, her words were frail. What had happened? Where did all her energy go? Why had such sadness overcome her?

She walked through the bleak white walls of school in this state, she nearly felt like going straight to lunch and laying on one of the outside benches for the rest of the school day. The clouds would be more soothing in their soft floating journey across the sky than an hour basking in the confusion of another algebra lecture from Mr. Pine.

Then suddenly a change swept over her. As she walked into math class, her mood brightened. Her friends were in the same class and she had a wonderful teacher. That day she thought openly and aggressively about every problem like they were puzzle pieces to some philosophical riddle.

And when she went into computers, the problems continued to flow through her head. She began applying every inch of her mathematical knowledge to the programming she was working on. Soon she rose to the best in her class save for the teacher’s assistant. As the week progressed she sat grudgingly through band as if she were pulling off a band-aid, but when she entered Algebra and Programming, her brain sprung to life.

On Friday as she rode the bus home, it struck her. Although she had friends in every class, her favorite classes had dramatically changed. She no longer wanted to be a band director; she could care less about the outcome of her flute lessons or 2nd chair position. What she really care about was making the final project in Programming class, and this time it would be better than the Ta’s project.