The days were long and took forever to end. At least that is how Kat felt as she sat in front of the computer every day, day after day. Reminiscent of her own school days, she counted down the days until Spring Break and then summer. She watched the clock as the seconds ticked on and the bell rang, dismissing students and then finally her to the beckoning world outside.
Working as a computer technician in a high school, staring at the glaring screen all day long was not how she had imagined her life would pan out. She was destined to live a life of thrill, of danger, of excitement, of far away travels. She sighed as she noticed yet another student instant messaging, an activity which was not allowed in this place.
The click, click, click, click, tap, tap, tap, tap of the keyboard were the sounds that she continuously heard and that followed her home a night. She jabbed out a message on her keyboard and sent it to the offending student. The student looked up at her, shook his head with disgust and shut off the program. He got up from his seat and stormed out without tucking his chair in. Kat rolled her eyes and went back to staring at the screen.
Just a little bit more than eight years ago, Kat’s life had been anything but glamorous; however, she was delighted with the direction it was going. Just out of high school, she was one of the youngest people living and working aboard a hospital ship in West Africa. As homesick as she was at the time, the adventure that lay before her every day was bathed in gold and sparkles, much different from the blue glow of a computer monitor that she now bathed in everyday.
Back then her travels and adventures kept the tears at bay. The friendships that she was forming were slowly becoming as important to her as the friendships she left behind. Her amazing boyfriend wrote her letters and short messages almost everyday and her family sent their best wishes and little blurbs of news when they could. Yes, life was good.
It seems no puzzle that tragedy was the only way out of this situation. At the time it didn’t seem to Kat or to any of her supporters, family or friends that her life could be anything but golden. Kat looked above her monitor at the square clock on the wall; little hand at 10, big hand at 11. She willed the hands to speed up and for the clock to read 3pm and to be punctuated with the ringing of a bell…just like back then…