(Old Voice): You skipped class again? (Me): Yeah… I just can’t sit still in there. (Old Voice): Yes, you can — and you need to. (Me): But why? It’s just another homework going undone. You know they won’t help. They’re busy with my sister — like always. (Old Voice): I know it’s hard… But we can make it. (Me): Can we, though? Our grades are shit. We got more missed days than days we’ve actually been in. Nothing’s working out. I’m drowning in absences And the school don’t ask why — they just label it as laziness. (Old Voice): It could work. If we just focused… (Me): YEAH, BUT WE CAN’T, CAN WE?! Don’t you get it? This ain’t some little phase, this is how we’re built — Fractured, restless, forgotten, filled with guilt. (Old Voice): Hey — No need to scream it out. I know how we struggled. (Me): DO YOU?! Were you the one tryna study through yelling? Hidin' in your room ‘cause the vibe got too heavy? Dodging questions like “Where's your homework?” When all I wanted was somebody to notice I was hurt? (Old Voice): I was there. I remember the noise. The way silence became your safest choice. But still — you're here, man. Even broken, even behind. You still try, even if it’s one line at a time. (Me): It’s not enough. Everyone’s miles ahead while I’m stuck at the start. Failing math, missing art, and I’m falling apart. (Old Voice): But you still show up — and that's something they don’t grade. You’re more than a test score or a late-ass essay. (Me): Then why does it feel like I’m losing? (Old Voice): Because healing and surviving ain't the same as choosing. (Me): I don’t know what I’m doing. (Old Voice): You’re doing your best. And even if they don’t see it — I do. And that’s progress.
